


Time and Space

by smirc



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: AU, CADMUS - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2019-05-21 07:11:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14910743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smirc/pseuds/smirc
Summary: “The first time Kara and Lena met was the first time Lex had tried (with his own hands, directly) to kill Clark.“-Chapter 8//Follows Kara’s arrival and some of her early life with the Danvers’ before moving onto college, her career and her interactions with Lena. Features multiple POVs per chapter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Superman: Birthright, from the mind of Mark Waid. I've borrowed vocabulary ("stardrive") and tried to draw parallels to certain scenes, but reading that isn't necessary in the slightest. I've embraced that version of Clark Kent/Superman, keeping him young and still a little unexperienced despite his accomplishments and victories at around age 27. The Martha Kent from Birthright has been replaced by the version of her from Man of Steel, played by Diane Lane, because she rocks that roll.
> 
> Holler at ya girl if you find errors.

_-_

_Argo City, Krypton, on the eve of its death…_

_-_

“Father! Father please, wait—” Kara, young and scrawny, dressed in her beautiful white graduation clothes, clawed at her father’s skinsuit even as they rushed down the hall. She spotted Jor-El being tugged along by a quietly sobbing Lara, who clutched infantile Kal-El to her chest with a lone arm. He swept them both into his arms and sped forward with a burst of panicked energy. “ _Uncle!_ Uncle please. There is space _I know there is space_. You only have to—”

“There is _no_ space,” Zor-El growled, breathing stuttered by his unshed tears as the ground beneath them trembled. With a deep breath he banished the cries he would have otherwise let free; his child needed him _strong_. He grasped Kara by her biceps, lifting her from the floor to throw her up and into the prototype starcraft. 

“Father— _mother!_ ” Kara rose from her seat, nails scrabbling at the outer hull of her starcraft to reach Alura. “Mother come, please, there is space I _know_ there is space. I will _make_ space—”

“No, my sweet girl.” Alura leaned against the hull of the sleek starship, thin and long, all smooth transitions to better avoid debris. She pressed a kiss to the space between Kara’s brows. “There is room for you and for Kal-El. That is enough.” 

They had never told her there was only space for the two of them. 

A sharp _boom!_ was followed by the tilting of the floor. In the opposing construction nursery Kal-El was already strapped into his starcraft, the bubble top locked into place. Lara remained beside her child, cooing at him through the glass as he screamed at the top of his little lungs. Jor-El rushed over to Kara and his brother, while Alura sprinted to his wife. Their panic left them in a frenzy, rushing to and clutching anyone and everyone that they loved and would lose.

“Do you remember?” Jor-El looked frantic as the bubble top closed over Kara’s vessel. “The games we played? The navigator’s championship in Kandor? Do you remember how you moved the controls and rationed plasma to divert debris?” 

Kara nodded, palms against the glass. She remembered winning the navigator’s championship—traversing holographic mazes and solving complex engine troubles with more efficiency and skill than any other contestant—and how it had looked like her father and uncle were on the verge of tears. She had never seen such relief and hope in their eyes. It had been strange, but all she had done was bask in their hugs and praise. “Uncle please—”

“Sweet girl—” Jor-El pressed his palm over the space where Kara’s was. He was crying, but like Zor-El he didn’t sob. “Sweet girl there was only ever space for the two of you.”

“Uncle please how—”

“Remember all of those ships in the nurseries? All of them destroyed? Do you remember the games where you lost?” Jor-El’s fingers curled, as if he would push them through the glass and pull Kara free. “They were tests. The ships: prototypes—all of them. Eventually you began to _win._ I need you to win again, sweet girl. Okay?” 

Kara nodded, even as she banged her fists against the glass and fought against the belts that tried to pull her safely into her seat. _Dammit_ , she didn’t want to leave—she _couldn’t_ leave. How could she leave them? Her mother and father, her aunt and uncle? What of her other cousins? What of her grandfather? How could she abandon her family?

But then Kara spotted Kal-El, wailing still in his pod just over Jor-El’s shoulder. Her uncle had labored over these ships to give her and Kal a _chance_. 

But a chance at _what_?

“It’s the same as it was in the games.” Jor-El looked away as Kara began kicking at the glass. Good reasons be damned, she swore there was room for someone else, but her uncle knew better. The ship rocked in its cradle. He locked eyes with his brother. They were out of time. “You told me you were willing, sweet girl. Willing to fight.” 

“I _am_ fighting!” Kara howled. She grasped the controls to yank at them in frustration and slammed her open palm down on the dashboard. “Uncle there’s _space—_ ” she choked on a sob as the floor gave way. The last image of her mother and father was of them running to her, and of her uncle embracing his wife for last time as they reached out for their son. “ _Mother!_ ”

For a moment, there was silence. Kara couldn’t hear herself even as she screamed with such an intensity that her throat bled. The universe flowed in slow motion as the sixty-story laboratory crumbled and Kara’s ship fell, barely detaching from the nursery in time. Her freefall lasted only moments before the stardrive activated and launched her up and away from her dying home.

In the distance, through her tear-blurred vision, Kara could see Kal-El’s ship. Blue and gold, just like her own, with a spherical thruster at the back beneath the extended stardrive. Jor-El’s design. She had watched him cut the steel for the hull of that prototype. Number 2-1-6. 

**_“Warning: Implosion imminent. Ship within blast radius.”_ **

“Redirect all available power to rear particle shields for two-one-six and two-one-seven.” Kara grasped the manual navigation controls and flipped the covers for the weapon array buttons. Illegal to install outside of regulated construction nurseries, but the Council was lost and soon there would be no one left to arrest, or anyone to do the arresting. 

She rubbed harshly at her cheeks, wiping away tear tracks, and trained the railguns to the space just before Kal-El’s speeding vessel. Debris from Krypton’s profligacy orbited the planet, and she would need to clear the way. The aim assistants would keep her focused on _not_ hitting her cousin, but Kara would pull the trigger. 

_“We have ignored instinct for so long, sweet girl. Your father is right when he says that no compass is greater than that in our chest. Feel the truth and never hesitate—never again.”_

Reflected in the bubble top, Kara watched Krypton’s tall silver spires cripple and fall, and the planet expanded, bursting in a rise of sickly orange light. 

It reminded her of a sunset.

The sheer power of the dying planet launched Kara far, far away from her cousin, into a system even farther away from their new home. 

Earth was lost to her for twenty-four years. 

-

_North Pacific Ocean, Earth, on the day of a strange arrival…_

_-_

Homesick but satisfied, Superman flew high above the water, fearful of getting his fragile cell phone wet. 

“I should be back home in about a half hour, Lois. We can get takeout from that Chinese place you love.” 

_“Good. You’ve been gone too long. Perry’s been talking about firing you.”_

“You told him I had the flu, right?” 

_“The man’s never even seen you sweat, Smallville. He called bullshit the moment I went into his office.”_

“Nuts. Okay. Make that fifteen minutes.” 

Clark could practically hear Lois’ smile. “The balcony door is unlocked, Smallville. Just give a girl some warni—”

Clark’s phone crumbled to bits in his fist as he shot forward, disrupting the ocean with a sonic boom as he rushed to catch a blue and gold… _rocket_ headed straight for the water. 

 _‘It… it looks like mine.’_ His ship. Pod. Whatever anyone wanted to call it. Blue and gold, with the spherical thruster in the back and the strange, supercharged engine emitting silver light that distorted the world like a blanket of heat. There were strange add-ons here and there, all dark, gritty metal—too harsh-looking to be a part of the original design—but otherwise it was kin to Clark’s own. 

With pursed lips and a brow furrowed in concentration, Clark pushed himself, and Superman caught the ship like a football. 

The bubble top was old, scratched beyond the point of buffing it new, but Clark could still see the sole passenger—there was only room for one. A young woman, slim and lean in tattered white clothes. Blonde hair was sloppily braided over her shoulder. Spit and blood were dry around her nostrils and lips, and it caked some of the holes in her clothes. A quick scan with his x-ray vision told Clark that there was no lasting damage aside from a few scars that were still pink. 

What caught his eye, and caught his breath in his throat, was the symbol stitched into her jacket with silver thread. Most of it was stained with blood, but Clark would know it anywhere. 

Superman’s _S_. Hope. What had Jor-El called it?

“ _El mayarah._ ” 

-

_Smallville, Kansas, thirty minutes after the arrival of Clark’s kin…_

_-_

Martha Kent watched from the porch as that girl touched Clark’s face with a reverence that had no conceivable explanation except one. 

Family. 

Long, _long_ lost family. 

She was tall like Clark, but slim—malnourished, even—with those entrancing blue eyes that Martha could see from across the way with little issue. Dark golden hair shone inhumanly in the afternoon sunlight. She looked like a goddess, and in filthy clothes beside _Superman_ in full regalia... that was saying something. 

The girl trailed her fingers over Clark’s chiseled face, across his sharp jaw, and Martha wondered what exactly this girl saw when she looked at her son. She couldn’t see Superman—he was an Earth phenomenon—and she couldn’t see Clark, because he was a _Kent_ phenomenon. Who did she see?

She spoke gibberish. What had Clark called it? _Kryptahniuo_ —or _Kryptonese_ for simple folk like his mother. 

The girl cupped Clark’s face, her own shining with love and a grief so strong she had Martha clutching at the porch fence in the midst of her own sympathy pain. 

Martha recognized one thing out of the girl’s fast-paced speech: a name. _Jor-El._ She’d heard it a lot those past few years as Clark researched his origins. _Jor-El._ His blood father.

Though she’d be loathe to admit it, Martha turned away when the girl fell to her knees, grasping fistfuls of Clark’s supersuit as she keened in agony. 

She howled _Jor-El_ and _Zor-El_ and _Rao,_ and Martha could feel the tang of blood in her mouth; she had bitten her tongue. She closed her eyes and willed the fear and the mistrust and the jealousy away. It didn’t leave her completely, but she would be damned if she let it stay and sit within her without a fight. This girl had _nothing._ No one but _Clark_. 

Martha gripped the doorframe, strength slowly seeping into her bones. 

No one but the _Kents_.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Kansas to Metropolis, and from Metropolis to Midvale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not totally happy with this chapter. I don't have a grasp on Young!Kara's voice yet.
> 
> This feels like it's moving pretty fast. Lena should come in a couple chapters.

_-_

_Smallville, Kansas, the Kent family home a month after Kara’s arrival…_

_-_

“I have to go back to Metropolis.” 

Martha was unfazed. She ached from head to toe and she hadn’t slept well in days, but she would make do. “Okay.” 

Clark looked away, eyes finding a window. He clenched his jaw, tendons flexing. “Kara can’t stay here.” 

Her facade crumbled, and she looked alarmed. “Why?” 

“Ma…” Clark was quietly exasperated. “I don’t need x-ray vision to see how her being here is hurting you. The stress is too much, and you can’t be around all the time—and she needs someone there _all the time._ ” 

“ _Clark_ ,” Martha gave him a stern look. After twenty-seven years of being his mother, she was familiar with super-hearing. “She can _hear_ you.” 

“It is okay, Lady Martha.” Kara stood at the threshold, hands tucked beneath her armpits. It was her latest strategy to keep from breaking things. “Kal-El must do what is best for you. There is no shame. I know I am a handful.” 

“Oh Kara, sweetheart, that isn’t—”

The doorbell rang. 

_“Delivery for a Clark Kent!”_

Clark went for the door, and Martha went for Kara. 

_“Hello.”_

_“Here’s the package. Just sign here.”_

“Kara, you don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to go.” 

Big blue eyes, the same as Clark’s but so full of anxiety and hurt, peered up at Martha. The girl was always hunched over, curled up as if to protect her stomach from a finishing blow. “We both know that is a lie, Lady Martha. You are very kind, but I understand that you cannot take care of me.” The girl seemed to harden, spine uncurling with defiance. “I should be able to take care of myself. Of Kal.” 

Martha ached at the name. _Kal-El._ The baby Kara had loved so fiercely was no more, and a stranger with his blood-father’s features had taken his place. 

“Kara… no one expects you to be ready to take on the world.” Clark had warned her about Kara’s strength, but how could she deny the girl some physical comfort? An embrace could be more effective than words. _‘Oh what the hell.’_ Martha set her hands on Kara’s shoulders. Slowly they crept around her back, a degree of hesitance still there, but as Clark walked back into the kitchen she embraced Kara fully, the girl’s hands still beneath her armpits. “You’ve lost so much. Let us give you what we can. And someday, if you need to, you can pay us back. Just not yet.” 

“ _A gift_ ,” Clark announced in Kryptonese. He extended the small box towards Kara. “ _From a friend of our House._ ” 

“The friends of our House are dead, sweet prince.” 

Clark suddenly looked like he had as a little boy, staring up at his mother with earnesty. His eyes were wet. Kara had never used a term of endearment before, and Clark knew, somewhere deep in his bones, that it was something that belonged to _them._ Jor-El. Lara. Zor-El. Alura. A remnant of a home he would never know.

The guilt he felt was immeasurable. She had come all this way with the goal to protect him, to raise him, and while it would have been amazing to have her there as he grew, he didn’t need her. He forced himself to ignore her whimpered words a week ago, when she confessed into her tattered pillow that she wished she had died with Krypton. He wanted to ignore it forever—it _hurt_.

“A... a new friend. A friend I’ve made on Earth.” He gestured with the box. “Open it. It’ll help you deal with all the noise and the x-ray vision.” 

Kara moved swiftly, but only after Martha let her go and backed away. With fearful movements she pulled the box apart like wrapping paper, and popped open the small leather case inside. 

A pair of glasses.

“There are no… _magnifying lenses_.” Kara hadn’t known the English term for _magnifying lenses,_ but at Clark’s look of confusion she realized that he didn’t know he word in Kryptahniuo, either. She gestured at the lenses of the glasses in her hand. “Other pieces of glass, to narrow the vision.” 

“You only need one piece for that, but these aren’t for someone with bad eyesight.” Clark smiled, pulling out a similar pair. He slipped them on. “They’re for you. Just like mine.” 

With a bit of hesitance Kara slipped them on, and her eyes widened and her lips parted with wonder and relief. Lead in the glass and in the thick black frame kept her from seeing Martha’s bones or the shape of Clark’s strong heart beating in his chest. The brightness of the colors around her hadn’t faded, but the light no longer pierced her eyes and overwhelmed her vision. 

Kara looked to Kal. She imagined that they looked even more alike now. His eyes were a beautifully painful thing to behold.

“You have the El eyes, Kal-El. And Lara’s smile.” Kara looked to Martha. “But your other mother… she’s made you sweet.” 

Clark’s smile grew, but internally so did his guilt. _‘I’m so sorry.’_

_-_

_The Kent bachelor pad, Metropolis…_

_-_

Clark clutched Kara to his side with a strong arm as they sat in the walk-in shower, the water on and beating atop their heads. They were soaked through their clothes, wet jean-clad legs pulled up against their chests. The lenses of their glasses were coated in steam and determined droplets. The dull noise of the water hitting their bodies and sharp sound of it striking the tile walls and ceramic floor filled the entire apartment.

Kara said it helped to drown out the ambient noise of the city: the blaring car horns, the dozen screaming infants in every apartment building, Perry roaring in his office downtown; it was all too much noise for a girl with such severe hearing. 

“ _I’m sorry._ ” Kara was crying, but her tears were camouflaged. Clark saw them all the same.

She’d destroyed the front door and cracked the marble kitchen countertop, frantic as a truck horn blared outside of the apartment building; it had tapped a fire hydrant and sent water everywhere. People had shouted, a dog had gone off howling, and Kara had run to the shower in search of solace. 

“ _This is my fault, not yours.”_ He pulled her tighter against his side and thought of his father. Jonathan was the best at this. The rallying moral pep talks. The life advice. The soothing words for a teenager who had never, ever belonged. He would be able to help Kara better then Clark ever could, but he was gone. _“You aren’t ready for the city—any city. A town would be better. A town… like_ Smallville.” That made Clark smile despite himself. There was no word in Kryptahniuo for his hometown. “ _The friend who made you your glasses. He… he lives in a nice place._ ” Clark switched to English. “It’s called Midvale, in the state of California. Remember California?” 

Kara nodded, the lower part of her face hidden in her stacked forearms. They had gone over the world’s geography together on the drive to Metropolis, along with a dozen other things. 

“It’s a nice little town, quiet like Smallville, with kind people.” Clark cleared his throat. He continued with a low, soft voice. Any human wouldn’t have been able to hear him over the roar of the shower, but Kara seemed to follow along just fine. “He… my friend— _our friend_ —his name is Jeremiah. He has a wife, Eliza, and a daughter, Alex. She’s a year or two older than you, actually. They live in a two-story home on the outskirts of town, and they have a big, green backyard full of wildflowers. There’s even deer, if you go past the fences and into the thin forest. A creek, too. I used to sit out there and meditate, trying to control my powers when I got upset.” 

“Lord Jeremiah—”

“Just Jeremiah,” Clark corrected gently. 

“Jeremiah… he helped you? To see and to hear without hurting?” 

Clark nodded. Jeremiah was like Jonathan; in Clark’s mind, he had the potential to be Kara’s Jonathan. Someone older, with patience and a heart swollen with love and energy and a home that was in a safe, quiet place. “He made my glasses, just like he made yours. He can make you something to help with the noise, I think.” He paused, trying to find the right words. “Do you… would you like to visit them?” 

Kara nodded. She tucked herself further into Clark’s side and settled her head on his shoulder. As far as he could tell, she had stopped crying, though her breathing was still stuttered.

They sat in silence for a time, content to listen to their synthetic rain. 

-

_The Danvers family residence, Midvale, Southern California…_

_-_

“Kara,” Jeremiah beamed, gesturing to the young woman his wife had to shove into the living room. “This is my daughter, Alex.” 

Accustomed to seeing Clark do it, Kara stuck out her hand for a shake. Alex stared at it in silence, her expression neutral.

“ _Alex,_ ” Eliza hissed, but her warning fell on deaf ears. Alex turned on the heel of her socked foot and marched into the kitchen. The fridge door opened and closed as Kara and Clark exchanged confused glances. 

“Here.” Alex set an egg in each of Kara’s palms. She’d overheard a lot of her father’s conversations with Clark about how Kara still broke things left and right, and she wasn’t eager to have the alien break her bones. “Juggle those without crushing or dropping them and I’ll shake your hand. I need mine to play goalie.” 

“ _Alexandra—_ ”

Eliza was cut off by Clark’s laughter, and surprised by Kara’s determined nod.

_-_

It took Kara a month to not only juggle the eggs successfully, but to do it in front of Alex without performance anxiety getting in the way.

She counted that handshake as one of the greatest moments during her time on Earth.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A baseball game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Kara and Clark! I've never enjoyed the fics that vilify Clark, so with time I want to explain how he and Kara slowly separated and she was left largely on her own with the Danvers family. 
> 
> As for Kara and Alex, I'm not entirely sure how to write their relationship. How long does it take to welcome a stranger who breaks everything into your home? And they're not even your blood so the classic familial obligation doesn't apply?
> 
> I promise I won't make her emo or some run of the mill angsty teen lmao. Grief (in my experience) tends to amplify every bad thing and trigger tunnel vision. Once she moves forward, she'll be more like Kara from season one.

_-_

_The Danvers family residence, Midvale, Southern California…_

_-_

“What… what clothes are those?” Clark cringed at his own awkwardness, but the cardigan made Kara look _strange._ In his mind she was in oversized clothes or her white graduation regalia, but never something so uniquely _human._ Other species had t-shirts, but cardigans seemed to be a special form of wear because he’d yet to find anything like them anywhere else _on_ anyone else.

“Lady—Miss— _Eliza_ took me shopping.” Kara picked at the cardigan, ripping a hole in it without curling in on herself in apology like she usually did when she broke something. She looked… Clark would say drugged, but that felt extreme. Just _out of it._ “I do not like these clothes.” 

“Do you still have the ones we bought?” Clark smiled at the memory. Shopping with Kara had been oddly fun. He wondered if that was how his parents felt, dressing him as a boy and later helping him disguise himself as a man—as Superman _._

Kara nodded. 

“Go change. I’ll talk to Eliza—”

Kara shook her head quickly. “It is okay, Clark. It would be best to not upset Eliza. I do not wish to be sent away.” 

“Her and Jeremiah wouldn’t—”

“They would.” Kara looked at him with the sort of understanding that came from experience. _‘Who’s betrayed you, sweet girl? Are they alive to be punished or did they lose it all too?’_ “Our House… our House was _one_ . A whole made of many parts. All we ever had was our House. Everyone else was merely… temporary—purposefully so. All other bonds are fickle, but the bonds of blood and marriage, _good_ marriage, are forever.” 

“Friends—”

“I have bad experience with friends, Kal-El.” The faraway look in Kara’s eyes made Clark ache. He tried to imagine _something_ in the vein of betrayal. A stolen starcraft. A sabotaged prototype. 

Blood spilt on a silver and gold floor. The Phantom Zone. 

_‘General Zod, a friend to our House.’_

“Get dressed. You’ll love today. Some of the things normal people do are actually _fun._ ” 

That got Kara to smile, and Clark knew he would ride the high of that victory for _weeks_ after today. 

_-_

_The Kauffman Stadium, Kansas City, Missouri…_

_-_

“These are _fantastic_ .” Kara was on her fifth hot dog, the entirety of the thing coated in chili and melted cheese; doused with ketchup for extra _extra_ flavor.

Clark nodded in agreement as he chewed, smiling with the space around his mouth covered in chili. If he was with Lois, this would be the part where she’d roll her eyes and wipe his face with a _“nice one, Smallville. Real adulting right there.”_

Instead, Clark plucked napkins out of the cardboard box they carried their food in and cleaned Kara's face before wiping his own. Being a messy eater must have been genetic. Something in his chest swelled, and he wished Lois was there to see this, to be a part of it. 

But Clark had pushed her away without giving her a reason why. Usually it made him gloomy, but there was hope, somewhere inside him, and it bloomed as Kara cheered for the Kansas City Royals at a relatively human volume, minimizing the power of her breath so she wouldn’t blow half the people in the stands away. She was rapidly getting better, and when Clark could look away and not text Jeremiah every four hours with anxiety, he would find Lois in the Daily Planet bullpen and he would take her here. Kauffman Stadium. Lois, Kara and him. 

When he took Kara’s hand, all his cousin did was smile and press a kiss to his knuckles. He remembered her explaining that to him, the first time she did it. 

_“On Krypton that is how we greet our greatest loves, Kal-El. Sometimes, if the love is strong, two people will move swiftly for the honor but, in the end, both will win.”_

During the break between half-innings Clark left Kara with the promise to bring back more hot dogs, but instead of stopping at the food cart that had become their favorite, he moved on to the merch vendors. The perfect hat had caught his eye. It matched the one he was wearing, only it was new and hadn’t been faded by time and superpowered hands. 

His dad had gotten him it, and he’d held onto it from the time he was eight until now—and he’d never let it go. Clark hoped Kara would hold onto hers, and by extension him, because him leaving would always hurt her more out of the two of them. 

“The blue and white one, right up there. Thank you.” 

Maybe seeing it and wearing it would remind her of their good times, in case she ever forgot.

_-_

_A belowground greasyspoon, National City, California…_

_-_

“See? I told you. Best burgers to ever be grilled in _existence._ ” 

Kara was on her second. Clark his third. 

The waitress brought them their third round of strawberry milkshakes with an amused smile. She’d been shocked, watching scrawny Kara wolf down their largest burger on the menu, but like everyone else she adapted and continued to come by to refill their basket of crinkle-cut fries. 

They didn’t stay long at the nameless joint, referenced only by its cross street in conversation— _Ninth and Buck_. The sun had long since set, but National City was still full of light, so Clark took her for a brief exploratory tour. 

They wandered the streets, matching in their oversized casual clothes and their Royals baseball caps. Two peas in a pod with the same eyes and the same habit of looking down at their shoes.

National City was full of shops and artisan stores, economic apartments stacked neatly atop each. A thousand different restaurants were alive with food halfway cooked to perfection. Strip joints existed right beside McDonald's and Chick-fil-A; pot shops beside police stations. 

Months ago, in Metropolis, the noise of the cars and the people were too much for Kara. Clark thought of this as progress, but he knew that National City was quieter than Metropolis. So far from Gotham and the horrors the East Coast was plagued by yearly, California was a bright spot in comparison—National City most of all. It was a West Coast hotspot, growing in popularity every year with new businesses popping up by the week and the ever-famous CatCo Worldwide flagship building continuing to draw in hopeful young people searching for a media career. 

A good place for Kara to live, someday, if she didn’t (and Clark knew she wouldn’t) stay in Midvale.

They stopped beside a pair of wrought iron gates locked closed. A hundred tall yellow lamps kept the greenery lit, exposing a chiseled stone sign that read _Stanhope - Est. 1949._

“Stanhope is a pretty good college. A lot of art majors go here, but they have a surprisingly good engineering program. Lots of benefits for veterans, too.” Clark pointed to the pegasus statue in the middle of the Stanhope gardens. “See that guy right there? He was actually flying above National City some three years ago, and after some Stanhope students caught him on film, the school adopted his likeness as their mascot. I tried to catch him but all I did was lose control and slam into the ocean.” Kara gaped, and Clark took it as a moment to teach her a lesson. “That’s why you _can’t_ fly. Not yet. I was lucky, the ocean is pliable—a building full of people isn’t.” 

Kara nodded, and Clark hoped she would listen. 

-

_The Danvers family residence, Midvale, Southern California…_

_-_

“Are you okay?” 

Kara nodded. She had pulled the bill of her Royals cap down to shade her eyes. It didn’t prevent her from seeing Alex on the porch with her friends, or how she tensed when they came into view. 

With Clark it was easy to forget about the Danvers family, but now, back there again, all Kara could do was remember the dialogue she had shared with Alex over the past four months. 

 _“Can you stop being such a weirdo? They’re just_ **_birds_ ** _!”_

 _“Mom, they’re_ **_my_ ** _friends!”_

 _“I have a tournament. I won’t just sit around and_ **_babysit_ ** _while you and dad get to go gallivanting about enjoying yourselves.”_

_“Freak.”_

Time had progressed. Mistakes had been made. They had made progress. 

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“There are Simpsons reruns on channel four in thirty minutes. I set a reminder so don’t worry about touching the remote.”_

_“Kara… I didn’t—I didn’t mean to make you cry.”_

_“We can sunbathe in the backyard, if you want.”_

Alex’s friend Jason Yang waved at them. “Hi Kara!”

The others followed suit soon enough, all of them smiling aside from Vicky Donahue. 

Jason elbowed Alex gently in her side, the both of them on the porch swing. Kara could hear the whispers that passed from the corner of his lips. _“Dude, why aren’t you saying hi to your sister?”_

“ _Foster sister,_ ” Alex murmured. She sat straight, stretched her arms up and managed a wave. She was only relatively kind when her friends weren’t around. “Hey Kara. Clark.” 

“Hello Alex.” Clark’s smile was kind, but more cordial than anything. “If Eliza comes out, tell her Kara and I are just going to go for a walk around to the creek and she’ll be in bed by midnight.” 

Alex nodded. “Alright.” 

Clark turned, jerking his head in the direction of the nearby fields of wild grain they would cut through to reach the woods. They left without another word, and laughter reigned in their wake. 

“You’re not happy,” Clark stated. 

“I will never be happy.” Kara bit her lip.

“You were today.”

Kara scowled. “That is _different_.”

Clark’s brow furrowed. “How?”

“I spent the day with _you_. You are my people. They…” Kara looked back at the house. Two stories. Three bedrooms. Two bathrooms. A large kitchen. A basement _and_ an attic. It still felt like she was suffocating—caught between a slight, scowling rock and two well-meaning hard places. “They try. I am blessed, to be among people who try, even as I break their plates and bend their silverware and crack their floors when I forget to lighten my feet.” 

Being a failure hurt quite a bit. Kara still hadn’t gotten used to it, and she’d been a failure since Krypton’s fall. 

“I’ll talk to Eliza about the clothes—”

“It’s not the clothes!” Kara snapped, scattering wildlife for a mile in every direction. “It’s…” her shoulders sagged. She turned away from her cousin. “I’m not meant to be here. You… you fit in, sweet prince. Because of my failure you grew up in the embrace of humanity but I—I didn’t. I spent my childhood in Argo and Kandor, in Yasco and Raenor, piloting starcraft these humans will not build for another five thousand— _ten_ thousand—years.” Kara turned on her heel, eyes wide. Had she offended him? “I like the simple nature of this place, somewhat, but I’m just… I am an alien. _You_ are an alien. But you accept that much easier than I.” 

“I think you’ve accepted it.” Clark’s smile was bittersweet. A reflex, even. “But you’re not happy with it. _That_ you won’t ever be happy with. I’m not.” 

“You’re not?” 

Clark shook his head. “No.” 

“Why?”

“I love being able to help people—it’s a big part of who I am—but if I was normal, I wouldn’t have to hide. I wouldn’t have to be so careful.” Clark sidled closer, hands in his pockets. “ _But_ , I’m _not_ normal, and I’ve adjusted. And Kara, I get to do the most amazing things. I get to help so many people. It’s more than writing stories for the Planet and putting out fires. The symbol, _our_ symbol, gives people hope.” He slung an arm around Kara’s shoulder. The weight of it was comforting. It reminded her of his father, her father too. “We have the potential to do a lot of good for this world. Try and focus on that.” 

Kara nodded, a lump in her throat. All anyone could ever do in the aftermath of tragedy was _deal_ . She could do that. She needed to. _‘Father would be ashamed of me.’_ He expected her to do her duty: to do right by Kal-El, to do right by Earth. 

She wanted badly to hate Earth, but in truth there was nothing wrong with this planet, and Kara knew that. It simply wasn’t Krypton. That was something she had to overcome. _‘It hurts.’_

Her face pinched slowly, cheeks growing ruddy as her eyes stung. She curled inward almost in slow motion, and when Clark pulled her to his chest she hid in his neck before her first sob could turn the nearby trees into toothpicks.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lena’s on the horizon now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A best (first) friend, someone who might just be a sister, and a new being from beyond the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as I get back into writing, I go on vacation, and then i come back, and I’m sick of writing again. What a life. 
> 
> Things are no longer canon-compliant.

_-_

_The Kent bachelor pad, Metropolis…_

_-_

Clark was half asleep when his phone buzzed atop his bare chest. He blinked, confused and unhappy after fifty-two hours of constant wakefulness in order to both provide relief in flooded areas of the Midwest and meet his deadlines at The Planet. He didn’t squint when he looked at his phone, unaffected by the sudden bright light. When he saw who had sent him several messages, he couldn’t control his broad smile, teeth peeking out past his lips.

_[11:13PM] Kara: I made a friend today!!!_

_[11:13PM] Kara: His name is Kenny and he has a telescope, which is rudimentary in comparison to Krypton’s technology, but he takes beautiful photographs with it using his laptop._

_[11:15PM] Kara: This world is so different and still so foreign to me, but the stars are just as beautiful no matter where I am in the galaxy._

_[11:16PM] Kara: Even if the constellations are not the same._

_[11:16PM] Kara: Kenny is teaching me them._

_[11:17PM] Kara: Do you know the constellations?_

Clark sighed, chest heavy with the kind of ache that made him want to curl up beneath heavy blankets and never move again. His smile was both happy and sad in equal measure, and he wished he could hug his cousin. She gave great hugs, and she didn’t mind at all when he squeezed her with more strength than he had ever dared to before with anyone.

He had pulled away from her—and he’d yet to bring Lois back into the fold—confident that it was the right thing to do.

Once he resecured the safety of his identities, everything would go back to his version of normal.

 _[11:19PM] Clark: Pa taught me a couple_

_[11:20PM] Clark: Ma is really into astrology, though_

_[11:20PM] Clark: didn’t she tell you your star sign?_

_[11:20PM] Kara: She said I was a Virgo, but that was all._

_[11:21PM] Clark: call her tomorrow and she’ll tell you all about it_

_[11:22PM] Clark: she misses you_

_[11:22PM] Kara: And I her. I must visit soon._

_[11:22PM] Kara: The both of us. A family affair with all of the fixings, yes? We can watch baseball!_

Clark’s smile was soft and giddy, and he held his phone to his forehead, eyes closed. He could see them both there in his childhood home, eating their weight in glazed pork and fighting over oatmeal cookies as ma slapped at them with a dish towel. He wanted that.

_[11:24PM] Clark: I’ll make it happen_

_[11:25PM] Clark: So Kenny?_

_[11:25PM] Kara: He’s kind and funny._

_[11:26PM] Kara: I believe his type of humor is called self-deprecating. I hope he doesn’t truly feel that way about himself, but in the moment what he says makes me laugh._

_[11:27PM] Kara: He sat with me at lunch and says I should try out for the chess club. He’s thinking about joining, too._

_[11:28PM] Kara: I feel light in my chest and on my feet. It’s almost like being with you._

Clark closed his eyes again, heart feeling as though it were swelling like a balloon, threatening to burst from his ribcage. He held his phone against his chest.

He missed her. He missed her so much it had begun to hurt him.

For a brief moment, he was filled with an otherwise inconceivable, wild hatred, and his back tensed and his eyes burned. There was hatred for the criminals and villains that terrorized the world without pause; hatred for Perry, who screamed at him and threw away nearly all of his ideas and hard work in favor of articles about Superman, or puff pieces that did nothing to improve the awareness of America; hatred for all the people who talked down to Clark Kent like he was the dogshit beneath their shoes, but looked up at Superman with wonder and worship.

Hatred for Lex Luthor, who was too egotistical and paranoid to let just let Clark do the right thing.

Hatred for his self-imposed isolation.

Clark sucked in lungfuls of air, the hatred and fury ebbing quickly like it always did since he was a kid. He curled on his side, phone still clutched to his chest.

Somewhere in the database at the Fortress, there were Kryptonian meditation techniques stored away. Clark wondered if Kara knew any of them, and if she’d like to meditate with him, someday, by that little creek behind the Danvers’ home.

She most likely would. The thought made him optimistic. 

He missed her. She missed him. It hurt, but he knew that it couldn’t last forever. They would have dinner with his ma and they would watch baseball, and he’d fix things with Lois and he’d impress Perry and the world would keep spinning and he would be happy.

It would happen. Clark had hope. He smiled into his pillow, and his body calmed. _‘Everything is going to be okay.’_

Without meaning to, he drifted off.

Across the country, Kara listened to his breathing slow, and smiled. She hid herself beneath her many layers of blankets and mouthed the names of Earth constellations until she fell asleep.

_-_

_The Danvers family residence, Midvale..._

_-_

Eliza was surprised to find both Alex and Kara already awake and dressed for school, the both of them in the kitchen. The collar of Alex’s unbuttoned flannel didn’t need to be folded down, Kara’s shirt wasn’t on backwards and her glasses were already on. It was the most put-together Eliza had ever seen them without a little help from her.

Having refrained from teaching Kara how to cook anything yet, Eliza knew that the heaping pile of scrambled eggs on her plate was Alex’s doing. Her daughter was still bustling around the kitchen, rinsing the bowl she had scrambled the eggs in and putting away the olive oil before toast popped out of the toaster, hot and perfectly crisp. All four slices went to Kara.

“I thought you had the day off,” Alex said, not even looking at her mother. When Eliza wasn’t needed at her lab one town over or decided to work from home, she’d sleep in until ten o’clock before starting her day, and the girls would have cereal for breakfast.

 _‘So much for a warm welcome.’_ “Good morning Alex. Kara.”

“Mornin’,” Kara greeted, mouth full with half a slice of toast and two spoonfuls of eggs that all threatened to burst past her lips. She smiled around her food, and Eliza was reminded of Alex, tiny and mischievous, grinning up at her from her high-chair after painting the kitchen with tomato sauce and spaghetti.

She missed that Alex.

“I see you’ve made breakfast.”

Alex nodded as she moved to join Kara at the dining room table. “Yeah.” She shoveled eggs into her mouth. “Coffee is brewing. We can split it.”

“Thank you.” Eliza would be surprised by everything today, it would seem. She could understand Alex finally taking her responsibilities as Kara’s sister seriously, but making _her_ coffee? Strange, considering the tenseness of their relationship. With Jeremiah on a trip to Gotham in search of funding, they had no mediator, so things were especially difficult. “I’m proud of how efficient you are.”

Alex shrugged. “Thanks.”

‘ _When did you pull away from me? What happened to the girl who was so excited to show me the new things she had accomplished, and glowed like the sun with the simplest of praise?’_

“I let her use the bathroom first this morning.” Kara grinned. Most of her food was gone. “You’re welcome.”

Eliza was left blinking stupidly when Alex smiled and commented dryly, “Keep it up and there’ll be better food waiting for you in the future.” 

Kara looked to Eliza, appearing the most calm and sated the woman had ever seen her. She explained: “There was a time where I thought I couldn’t be bribed, but Alex makes great eggs. I’m hoping for french toast on Monday.”

‘ _I need to call Jerry.’_

_-_

_Midvale High (Go Titans!)_

_-_

During a moment of rebellion while taking aptitude tests before her enrollment in public school, Kara had aced a portion of advanced chemistry problems instead of getting only sixty percent correct, as Jeremiah had told her to. This had earned her a place in Midvale High’s first period AP Chemistry class.

It was, as Kara had heard other students say, a _drag_.

The Kryptonian equivalent, Elemental Manipulation (Series’ One through Five), was leagues above what Kara was being “taught,” so she was left bored: once she translated her knowledge from Kryptahniuo to English, and adjusted for the difference in advancement, everything was dreadfully simple.

To make the best use of her time, she was doodling caricatures of her classmates in the margins of her spiral notebook.

When a paper plane glided over and landed atop Timmy Branson’s exaggerated buck-toothed smile, Kara looked around, eyes falling to Kenny, who waved at her. He had one headphone on, the wire hidden beneath his sweatshirt. He would brag to Kara about being a bad-boy rebel, but he had also proudly declared the day before that he was listening to the soundtrack of the Lion King on repeat. She could hear Simba from across the room.

Kara unfolded the plane to find a note.

‘ _Hey K,_

_I can tell that you’re bored._

_Be my friend :D’_

Beneath Kenny’s note Kara wrote her own, and carefully refolded the plane before sending it back with an uncontrollable smile.

_‘I already am your friend.’_

Kenny sent the note back as a crumpled paper ball when he couldn’t fold it back again properly. When Kara opened it, there was a tic-tac-toe game set up beneath her message. Kenny had chosen to be X, and had taken the center spot for his first turn.

Kara scowled. ‘ _Not fair.’_

They had plans that night to observe Mars in their usual spot, but until then, Kara could definitely occupy herself with beating Kenny at silly human games.

_-_

_The Projects by the East River, Gotham..._

_-_

“Where…”

“Mars.”

Jeremiah nodded one too many times, swallowing harshly around the lump in his throat that had formed in response to the stress of nearly dying. “Alright. Interesting place, I take it?”

“In the wrong ways, yes. I wouldn’t recommend you build a resort there.”

“Good to know.” Jeremiah scrambled to find the first aid kit Eliza always made him pack when he traveled. “Let’s see if we can’t get those bullets out, okay?”

‘ _Then we can figure out what do about the DEO.’_

The Martian, in his true form, nodded his broad, frilled green head. His eyes were calm pits of warm darkness, and there was a gentle hesitation in the way that he moved, adjusting himself on the thin mattress they’d scavenged after terrifying a pair of squatters. Purple blood trickled from a dozen bullet holes, all of them temporarily patched with duct tape or harshly managed with tight tourniquets. There had been no time for anything better—there had hardly been time for the duct tape.

Jeremiah could still hear the agents in black, ominous exosuits ordering them to stop running; the hiss of hydraulics and the minuscule, horrifying _pat pat pat_ of suppressed weaponry as he had sprinted through dilapidated neighborhoods.

‘ _This is what Clark was so afraid of.’_

Jeremiah thought of Kara, and he wondered how things would have worked out if she didn’t look so much like humans. Would they have let her go? And Clark? Would Superman be as beloved as he was?

The answers were most likely _yes_ and _no_ respectively. Jeremiah’s throat stung with bile. He wasn’t going to let this Martian go. It shouldn’t matter—it wouldn’t matter—what they looked like, at least to him.

“What’s your name, friend?”

“J’onn.”

“John?”

“No. _J’onn_. The _j_ is not so hard, and it is not pronounced like an English _j_. ”

It took Jeremiah a moment. “ _J’onn_.”

The Martian winced as tweezers delved into a bloody hole in his left pectoral. The bullet had been stopped by a combination of his body armor in a stolen human form and the hard secondary layer of his dermis, but it still hurt, and there was still a notable amount of blood. “Yes. You learn quickly.”

Jeremiah grinned, a bullet held victoriously in the sky between his tweezers. “One of my kids is an alien. The learning curve’s never been steeper than that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I need a plan


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Treason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is the tone all over the place?

_-_

_The Danvers family residence, Midvale..._

_-_

Alex had never thought of her mother as physically strong. She was slim, muscles slowly weakening as she aged, and in comparison Alex was in her prime, body toned from surfing, track and soccer.

” _Dad!_ ” 

Then her mom tackled her to the floor one night.

“Enough, Alexandra,” Eliza hissed. She sat back and pulled Alex to her chest as men in suits and sunglasses clasped a pair of handcuffs onto Jeremiah’s wrists. “We can’t do anything about this— _Kara_!”

Kara, on her cherry red ten-speed—a gift from Mrs. Kent—had pulled up, still on the street. 

Even from far away, Alex could see her hands shaking. 

The agents in black were shaking, too.

Kara was supposed to be sleeping over at Kenny's. Alex thought it was because of a meteor shower—or something else about the stars and the sky—but Kara was home, and if the agents’ reaction was any indication, this wasn’t a part of their plan.

’ _She knew,’_ Alex thought. ‘ _She heard. She flew back. She’s gonna fix this.’_

Alex would quickly learn how and why that couldn’t happen.

”Sweetheart, come inside, okay?” Eliza succeeded in sounding calm, even as she wrestled with Alex, who wasn’t about to sit by as her father was taken away. “You can take your sister upstairs.”

Alex made eye contact with Kara. She could see fear, plain as day, and the beginnings of guilt that always manifested whenever she broke something. 

Then rage. 

It was misplaced, probably, Alex thought. She couldn’t save her planet, and she probably thought she couldn’t save Jeremiah.

But then the skin around Kara’s eyes brightened, turning red, than orange, with veins of something blue and sinister-looking crawling towards her corneas before everything went white-hot. 

Alex had never heard her father scream the way he had. 

“ _KARA DANVERS, CLOSE YOUR EYES RIGHT NOW!”_

One agent had taken refuge behind Jeremiah, who he had yanked upright in order to serve as a better shield. Other agents hid behind their haphazardly-parked SUVs, guns drawn like they could do anything against a Kryptonian.

The agent behind Jeremiah began to regurgitate the Consititution. It was for Kara, who’d never read past the first four Amendments—though few human Americans could recite any pieces of those beyond them.

“Treason against the U—”

“ _CLOSE YOUR EYES!_ ”

“—nited States shall consist only in levying war against them, or in adhering to their enemies—”

The glow of Kara’s eyes brightened her face and the surrounding area, casting everything in a pale-blue light. 

It struck Alex then that fixing this situation, for Kara, would entail using heat vision. Heat vision couldn’t do anything but _destroy_.

Understanding and accepting that sometimes Kara’s emotions left her powers almost completely uncontrollable without help had been difficult for Alex. She’d wanted to declare that there was no excuse for stomping right through the floor or ripping off the bathroom door, but Kara really, truly struggled to be as gentle as her normal personality. 

So Alex would help.

Eliza twisted, a hand coming up to cover Alex’s eyes, to save her from having to watch, but Alex wouldn’t have it. She broke free of her mother’s grip with a backwards jab of her elbow and jumped to her feet, sprinting past cowering agents with tunnel vision. All she could see was Kara, on the verge of melting men into piles of sludge and blackened bones. 

“—giving them aid and comfort.”

She took two fingers and dragged them over Kara’s brows downward, encouraging her lids to shut. The heat was agonizing, but Alex ignored it—even as she could smell her own flesh burning. Touch worked best with Kara.

Her dad was worth killing for, Alex believed—Alex _knew_ —but Kara could barely handle accidentally stepping on an ant, let alone accidentally murdering a group of people with a new power. 

She would never stop being afraid of herself if that happened. Alex knew it for a fact. They’d have to go right back to the days of Kara timidly juggling eggs, and as funny as those days had managed to be, she’d rather they not backtrack.

It wasn’t like Alex could handle murder, either. It made her nauseous just to think about.

Kara crumpled to the floor, palms digging into her face like she could push the heat away into her brain, and Alex looked to Jeremiah. 

He was smiling; a combination of pained and full of pride.

“You might want to be more gentle with my dad,” Alex declared, voice trembling only slightly. “I won’t save you twice.” 

-

_The next day..._

-

“Thank you.” The agent accepted a mug of fresh coffee from Eliza with a genuine smile. He was too relaxed for someone unwanted.

From the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, Alex glowered. Why had her mother even let this guy in their house?

”You can come inside, Miss Danvers. I promise all I bring is good news, and apologies on the behalf of my agents for their actions.”

This guy was definitely too comfortable.

”I don’t want apologies. I want my dad back.”

The mug was set down on the marble island top with a _crack!_ “Your father committed treason.” 

“Doubt it.” Alex crossed her arms, chin rising. “Where’s the evidence?” 

“Warrants are signed by judges, Miss Danvers. Judges sign warrants once sufficient evidence, or probable cause, has been provided.”

Alex scoffed. ”Judges aren’t benevolent gods. You could have bribed one. Fabricated evidence—”

”This is not a crime drama, Miss Danvers, this is real life.” 

“So my sister almost melting your agents in their cheap suits was also real life. Good.” Alex nodded once, crossing her arms. “Didn’t want anyone to forget that.”

The agent rose to stand, harsh features made all the more severe by a fierce scowl. His tone was condescending and sarcastic. ”Do you plan on using Kara as a _weapon_ against us? Are you her _handler_?” 

Alex faltered for only a moment. This guy did _not_ get to twist her words. “I—she’s not a _thing_ to be controlled. She’s a _person_. Take what I said as a reminder that you can’t just push us around and not expect us to fight back.” 

The agent eyed Alex appreciatively, and Alex responded to his gaze with a glare.

”You’re brave. It makes sense, considering you touched a Kryptonian’s eyes just before it used its heat vision. Stupid, but brave—and impressive.” He extended a hand. “Henshaw. Hank Henshaw.”

Alex ignored his hand. ”You sound like a comic book villain; look like one too.” 

He grinned. “And _Kara Danvers_ sounds like a demure alter-ego.” He adjusted the lapels of his sport coat. “Someday you might appreciate this uniform.” 

“I don’t plan on working on Wall Street. Or as a butler.”

” _Alex_ ,” Eliza hissed. 

The agent was unfazed. “That’s good to hear. There are better things for great minds to be devoted to.” He looked to Eliza. “Like Jeremiah’s.” 

‘ _What?’_

“Those of us at the DEO that understand the pressures of being accosted by an alien threat have petitioned to the Director to allow Jeremiah to operate as a consultant at our base, instead leaving him to rot in a cell for the remainder of his life—”

”He didn’t _do_ anyth—”

”Miss Danvers,” Henshaw interrupted sharply, “you are not aware of your father’s crime. Let me explain it to you.” He gestured to the chair across from his at the kitchen island. Alex sat, upper lip twitching with the urge to sneer. “While in Gotham, after conversing with a representative from Wayne Industries, your father aided an alien criminal, directly interfering with an arrest-in-progress. An alien that has killed seven agents so far and is now at a location uknown to us.”

”So what you’re saying is that you suck at your job—”

” _Alexandra_ ,” Eliza snapped. “People _died_.”

”And I bet they’d kill dad and Kara.” Alex curled her hands into fists on the countertop. “I bet they’d kill Superman, too.”

She didn’t know those seven agents; couldn’t picture their faces or their families. What she knew was Kara’s face, terrified at the prospect of losing Jeremiah, and at the prospect of killing people with the brutal, uncontrollable heat of her eyes. What she knew was her dad, the greatest man to ever live, her hero. She could see their faces and their fear and their resignation.

Jeremiah accepting his own forced disappearance.

Kara ready to hand herself over to a shadowed enemy. Alex wondered if Kara had heard her moving to listen at the top of the stairs last night, eavesdropping on her conversation with Eliza. 

”You’re a very paranoid girl,” Henshaw said, openly examining her with a tilt of his head. 

‘ _And you’re a government asshole.’_

”I have to be, with people like you after my family.”

-

_A classified underground location, Northern California..._

-

Jeremiah’s handcuffs were undone, and his blindfold removed. He blinked, vision slowly coming into focus. By scent alone he knew he was underground, though the dark, cavernous ceiling riddled with pipes and vents told him the same. The floor was polished concrete, with the occasional set of jagged gashes from something he’d never want to meet. Televisions and monitors lined the walls, and a communication station as large as the gymnasium at Alex and Kara’s school was chock full of agents in black tactical gear. They spoke English, but their vernacular was riddled with code words he couldn’t comprehend, and he was lost.

Fitting, because he was literally lost. They could have taken him anywhere.

Director Henshaw clapped Jeremiah on the shoulder, his smile small but uncharacteristically friendly. 

“Welcome to the DEO, Agent Danvers. I’m sorry about the crash on the way over.” 

Jeremiah grimaced. He was too shook up to manage a smile. “It’s strange, but I almost enjoyed it.” 

Henshaw’s eyes glowed the faintest of reds, almost pink, before returning to normal.

“Humans are a strange race.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Won’t even kid—I know jack about the Constitution aside from the first four amendments. I get the rest of them mixed up. 
> 
> Also, I’ve written Alex to be a bit OC. In my head she’s sarcastic as a defense mechanism with Henshaw, and I’m not sure if that aligns with her character or not.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A speech and some college visits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again but with a bit of a nonspecific but definitely-less-than-six-months timeskip.

_-_

_The LuthorCorp flagship building, Metropolis..._

_-_

“Ladies and gentlemen, as just one man in a city full of millions, I can’t tell you how important the safety of my family is to me.” Lex inhaled deeply through his nose, scanning the crowd so that he could make eye contact with as many spectators as possible. He wanted them to see him, in all of his candor and genuine sweetness. He would be their savior. “My mother, bless her heart, and my sister Lena, who I imagine many people would take pleasure in hurting, and lastly...” Lex grinned, teeth immaculate. He spread his arms, welcoming everyone. “...all of you.”

Smiles bloomed in the crowd on the faces of random civilians and reporters alike. He focused on one reporter though: Lois Lane. She wasn’t smiling. 

It didn’t mean anything. She was a smart woman, but blind to the truth she didn’t want to see. He would save her just as he would save everyone else. 

“Family is important. This community—this city—is important. Which is why I’ve taken it upon myself, with the help of our government, to keep us safe from otherworldly harm. 

“Now, some of you might ask why I’m not focusing on problems _here_ , on this planet right now—but what I speak of is _already_ here, ladies and gentlemen. Aliens walk among us, and they do not see us as friends; to them, we are competition.

”We are the dominant species on this planet, and with our intellect, we should be the dominant _power_ on this planet, but we aren’t anymore. Superman could destroy us all within a week, or so my team of expert mathematicians and scientists tell me, based on the abilities he has displayed.” 

Lex inhaled, forcing his lower lip to tremble just a tad for the cameras. 

“Abilities he has used on _me_.” 

There were gasps and scowls; sudden intakes of determined breath from half the men in attendance. He had them. They wanted him to be their savior; their white knight.

He would be their _hero_.

“He didn’t enjoy my last speech—called it slander—and he hefted me into the air with his famed superstrength before letting me drop to the floor. I could tell that he took pleasure in towering over me, his eyes glowing with a promise of pain. It was a threat. Now, ladies and gentlemen, I’m a Luthor, and we’ve been getting threats for six generations...

”All that they do is tell me I’m doing what’s right.” 

_-_

_Metropolis, the Daily Planet..._

_-_

“Do you believe this shit?” Lois rarely cursed, and it caught Clark’s attention. 

Jimmy turned up the volume on the TV bolted to the far wall. 

People were cheering, and there was Lex behind a podium, making grand gestures with his arms as he smiled charmingly at the crowd. 

 _“His attacks on local residents—”_ Superman rounding up drug dealers and the participants of a human trafficking ring, who chose to fire carelessly in the street rather than surrender peacefully, _“—his penchant for costing us all millions in damages—”_ as opposed to human lives or the tens of millions in damage that could have resulted from juvenile gangs armed with experimental weaponry last fall, _“—and his love of brutish intimidation—”_ a slip up, because sometimes Clark’s anger didn’t fade as quickly as it usually did. Lex was good at pushing his buttons. _“—are over.”_

Jimmy was watching the screen with a deep scowl and crossed arms; Clark was watching Jimmy. He had been smart in telling his friend about Superman. It was nice to have someone who knew the truth with such absolute certainty; someone always in his corner that wasn’t his ma. 

He couldn’t have asked for a better friend.

_”I am afraid, ladies and gentlemen, but courage is the result of fear; it’s what happens when you are afraid but choose to stand up instead of run away. I will not run away—from Superman or from any other alien that terrorizes my city, or any city anywhere in the world. This is our home. Stand up for it with me.”_

-

_The penthouse suite of a Luthor-owned condominium, Gotham..._

_-_

Lena hated Gotham.

”Pay attention to your brother,” a familiar voice snapped, startling her. She hadn’t heard the front door unlock. 

She hated Gotham, but she hated Lillian more. 

“I thought you were supposed to be in meetings all day.” It had been the only reason Lena had left her room and gone into the commonspace. 

“And miss my son making history? Ridiculous.” Lillian crossed the threshold of the living room and took a seat on the arm of the couch, directly beside Lena. She always wanted to be _close_ , but there was never any innocence in it. Proximity seemed to amplify the effectiveness of her biting tone. “Pay attention.” 

_“—I am afraid, ladies and gentlemen—”_

”What is he talking about?”

”Are you an idiot? What else would he be saying aside from the truth? About Superman and the rest of the aliens who threaten our way of life. Do you remember the creatures who ran around last fall, killing innocent civilians?”

_“—but courage is the result of fear; it’s what happens when you are afraid but choose to stand up instead of run away—”_

”I thought those gangs were comprised of people, mother.” A fact corroborated by witness statements and court photos published by the Daily Planet, the New York Times, the Tribune and a dozen other notable papers. Lena had read them all, shocked by the death toll and the estimated lives saved by Superman’s courage.

Lillian scoffed. “Lies spread by the media to protect Superman. The Metropolitan Chronicle got the story correct.” 

“But don’t we own that paper?” Every educator Lena had ever been forced to study beneath had rambled on about bias.

Her heart thudded between her ears when Lillian gave her a look of surprise and disdain. 

” _I_ own that paper. _You_ own nothing.” 

_“This is our home. Stand up for it with me.”_

Lena looked away without a word, jaw stiff. She chose to focus on Lex. Lillian didn’t treat her any better when he was around, but it brought her joy to have him close and in her corner. 

She wondered that if she asked him to, he would send her away—or take her with him when he traveled. 

“Watch and learn from him, Lena, and someday you might amount to something half as great.” 

And with that, Lillian left the room, phone to her ear. Once she closed the front door of the penthouse behind her, Lena felt like she could breathe properly. 

 _‘You’re wrong,’_ Lena thought, hands fisting the fabric of her leisure pants. _‘Someday I’ll be in control. Someday it’ll just be me and Lex and no one will even remember you.’_

_-_

_The Stanhope College main campus, National City..._

_-_

“I’m... sorry about what I said last week, sweetheart. I _am_ proud of you for getting a perfect SAT score like your sister, but I’m also afraid. Colleges are sending you all of these pamphlets and you’re on all of these websites now—it’s exposure we haven’t dealt with yet.” 

Last week, when the envelopes had come in and the digital scores had been published, Eliza had praised Alex and scolded Kara for their respective 1600s. It had been complete one-eighty from the norm. 

Being reprimanded for succeeding had hurt, but Kara liked seeing Alex smile the way she had. 

“It’s okay.” Kara tacked on a brief smile, shrugging her shoulders. “I know that I’ve complicated your life, and I’ve cost you a lot—”

”You’ve brightened our lives, Kara, and don’t for a second blame yourself for our choices. Jerry made his, and I made mine, and other people... other people made theirs. Now we cope, and we move on.” Eliza swallowed, throat bobbing. She wiped her hands on the thighs of her jeans and looked around. Kara knew that her smile wasn’t fully genuine. “One of the ways you’ll have to move on is _college_. Isn’t that exciting?” 

Kara cringed. “Not really.”

”I bet Kenny is excited for college.” 

Kenny wanted to get his degree online as he traveled the world, taking pictures of the sky and whatever else he found beautiful, but Kara sure as hell wasn't going to spill _that_ secret—not even to Alex. 

”Uh, sure.”

”I know it’s a big change, but after everything, I think you’ll manage just fine.” Eliza looped her arm through Kara’s, leading her forward on their self-guided tour. “You and Clark have talked about Stanhope, right?”

”He took me here once, but it was at nighttime.” Kara grinned, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “He told me about Comet, the mascot.”

Eliza huffed out a short laugh. “Of course he did. Catching Comet had taken up the most of that summer—for Clark and for us. We couldn’t figure out if he was one of a kind or a member of a species we hadn’t discovered yet. Jerry and I debated for _hours_.”  

It was the first time Eliza had said his name without pausing and getting a far-off look in her eye. It was casual. It didn’t hurt like it usually did. 

“What conclusion did you come to?” 

Eliza shrugged. “We honestly didn’t know. My assumption is still that he’s a member of a species, but Jerry was convinced that magic was involved—he used Greek myths as evidence.” 

Kara looked up. They had reached Comet’s statue. If it was to scale, he was _massive_. 

“I hope he has family,” Kara said, voice soft.

No one should be alone.

-

“What do you want to do?” Eliza asked.

Kara shrugged, swallowing a half-chewed bite of her burger. It was too big of a piece, but she managed. 

“I don’t know.”

After only getting lost three times, Kara had managed to guide Eliza all the way to Ninth and Buck. She ordered her burger from last time, and Eliza got something with faux meat made with beet juice and vegetables.

”I know you aren’t interested in science anymore, but what about math?” 

“They’re closely related, Eliza. I... that’s not my path anymore.” Kara stuffed a fistful of fries into her mouth, and they were gone in seconds. She didn’t like thinking about anything in her father’s field of study. If she spent even a minute on it, even in the classroom back in Midvale, she swore she could hear his voice—correcting something on the board, improving upon a procedure, or bemoaning the slow pace of the course. It made her eyes burn. “I’ve been thinking that maybe I could be a journalist, like Ka—Clark? I’m a decent writer and I—”

”You don’t have to convince me, sweetheart, and you’re a _great_ writer.” Eliza patted Kara’s hand, and she didn’t know it, but she blew her daughter away with the clear faith in her gaze. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll support it. You’d be a phenomenal journalist, but you’d be a phenomenal _anything_.”

It was uplifting to hear, but Kara couldn’t help but wonder if Eliza had ever said any of this to Alex. 

-

_The Stanford College campus, Santa Clara County..._

-

“Danvers!” 

“What?” 

Alex wasn’t the biggest fan of Brad, who was easily the loudest dudebro at the sleepover freshman orientation. He had her respect though, because despite his penchant for being loud and socially brutish, he had always had good grades and his dream was to be a lawyer like his big sister—which he’d shared quietly over a chill breakfast in the dining hall.

Brad’s grin was white and perfect. He held up two unopened cans of Budweiser. “Mason got his brother to buy beer. If you chip in five we can get pizza.”

”You guys prioritized beer over pizza?” In her household, if they had ever been old enough or allowed to drink, it would have been unthinkable. 

“Dude, I’m trying to have a nice time, not hide my abs. My sports scholarship is important.” Brad cracked both beers, holding them away from his body so none of what spilled fell on his shorts. “Care for a walk? We can drink and explore.” 

“Sounds like you’re asking to get caught.”

Brad quirked a brow. ”You scared?”

Alex paused. She shook her head. “No.”

It had been three months since she’d last gotten a letter from her dad. Alcohol was supposed to help with feelings, right?

She took the beer Brad offered and didn’t object when he linked their arms and lead them down a faintly lit stone path. The area was full of people chatting or playing semi-sober tag in the darkness, but they left them all behind in favor of quiet conversation over drinks.

There weren’t any butterflies in her stomach, but Alex still thought it was nice. Brad was _nice._

Though the way alcohol made Alex feel as the night progressed was better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best work, but I wanted to put something out. I’ll put a notation if I revise it so you lot know.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The living, the dead, and the one who was practically asking to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-daaa. I’m not sure I really like this chap, so a note will be put up if I decide to revise it.

_-_

_The Stanford College freshman dormitory, Santa Clara County..._

_-_

”I heard about Kenny.” 

Kara didn’t say anything. All Alex got was a shaky _mhm_. 

“K...” She was hungover. Why did she drink last night? Jesus. She knew it had something to do with Brad, his buddy Louis and some shitty dive bar that didn’t care about ID. “Kara. Talk to me.” 

_“He got run over by a drunk driver from two towns over. Something about a local liquor ban? I don’t—I don’t know. He—Kenny... there was no chance he’d have made it. I heard it. I heard his bones crunching.”_

And just like that, Alex’s mind was clear. It still hurt, and her mouth was dry and her shins were still bruised from her knocking into her bed frame coming in, but she had some of her processing power back. It probably had more to do with Kara than anything else, though she liked Kenny. He was sweet. He was sweet to Kara long before Alex had been. 

“Fuck,” she whispered, falling back against her pillows with her free hand on her warm forehead. “I’m so sorry Kar. I can—I can come down. Just let me talk to my profs and I’ll—”

_”No. You’ve only been gone three months. I’m not going to pull you away. I don’t—I don’t get to do th-that to you.”_

Alex turned on her side, making eye contact with her roommate. Dalia was smart, and the room was so quiet that she’d probably heard Kara’s watery confession about hearing Kenny’s bones crunch. Fuck. Dalia nodded once, and when she left Alex knew she could count on a glass of water when she came back. 

“I want to make this clear, and I don’t want you to ever, ever forget it, okay?” She ran a hand through her hair. A lump was forming slowly in her throat. She missed her sister, a lot. “You, Kara Joseph Danvers, are not and have never been a burden to me.”

 _”You hated me,”_ Kara argued, her voice somewhere between tears and humorous.

”Listen, smart aleck, I didn’t _like_ you, but I never hated you. You were strange, and you actually juggled the eggs I gave you like the overachiever you _totally_ are. Now, I love you, and if I could, I’d punch the old me right in the kisser.” 

_”I wouldn’t let you.”_

Kara was big on preserving Alex and her health.

”Ugh.” 

A grunt was all it took to make Kara laugh. It was tiny, and she was hiccuping with every breath, but it was a laugh. 

“I can come home, Kara. Just say the word.”

_”No. You... you go and get your degree. I’m gonna, um, go visit Mr. and Mrs. Lee. We’re having dinner tonight. Barbecue.”_

Alex smiled. ”I’d come back for a barbecue.” 

_“You don’t ever get to make fun of me about my eating habits again.”_

“ _Ha!_ Yeah, no. It took you until the last bite of your second sandwich to realize you had been eating the paper that one time. Your _second_.”

Kara groaned. _“You’re such a jerk.”_

”That was...” Alex bent her arm and set her head on it; it was more solid than her shitty ten dollar pillow. “That was a good day. A really good day. Remember the beach?” 

It had been the four of them. They were having a picnic on the beach with all the fixings and a cooler full of sodas after the soccer season had finished; a small celebration for Alex making captain in her junior year. There were so many blankets on the sand that they had all the space to sprawl out, though Jeremiah had Eliza had cuddled close and Alex was half on top of Kara with her legs kicked out when they weren’t dunking each other in the water. 

If she had to pick one, Alex would choose that day as her favorite. She’d never felt so connected before—to people and to Midvale. Thinking of it now made her ache with a peculiar loneliness. She had friends at Stanford. She should have been fine. 

_”I had never seen such pale sand before.”_

”What color was it on Krypton?”

_”Lilac, usually, or completely clear, though if you went into the wastes it was usually this deep, dark red—I think the English word is ‘maroon.’”_

”What’s... What’s the Kryptonese word?” Alex was always hesitant to ask about things from Krypton; sometimes Kara would be eager to share, and other times she would crumble before Alex could finish asking a question.

 _”Kryptahniuo,”_ Kara corrected gently.  _“It would be ‘gadiahr.’”_

”Gadiahr,” Alex parroted.

 _”Excellent.”_ There was no high-pitched excitement in Kara’s voice. Instead, there was something thick and rich in it—something old and warm and it made Alex curl around her phone, her heart slow and steady. 

Fuck, she missed her. She missed home. She missed her dad. She even missed her mom and the biweekly reamings over everything she did wrong. 

“I miss you. A lot.” 

_“And I y—I miss you too, sis.”_

Alex guffawed. Sometimes Kara would skip into more formal speech, and overcorrect with something too casual and not _her_. “Do _not_ use slang like that. Go back to your rigid, contractionless English.”

_”What’s poppin’ cuz?”_

”I’m hanging up the phone.” 

_“Nooo.”_

“Kara,” Alex warned, her smile evident in her tone. 

_“I miss you. I love you. Skype later? I know you have a class at twelve.”_

”My baby sister, who’s like five hundred miles away, should not know my schedule better than I do.”

_”I’m too good, Alex, I’m too good.”_

Alex rolled her eyes. “Tell...” she bit her lip, “tell the Lee’s I send them my best.” 

She didn’t want to bring them back to the dark things—she wished she could hold onto their banter forever—but the world was spinning without them, and they needed to keep up and keep their heads in the game. 

As of late, Alex wasn’t doing a very good job of that. 

_“I will.”_

”I love you, Alien Girl.” 

Dalia was back—a water bottle in one hand, a cigarette in the other. Alex held a finger to her lips, requesting silence.

 _“I love you too, Human Wreckingball.”_  

A nickname from the infamous one-hit knockout at her senior prom. Kara had picked her up afterward, and they’d shared her bike coming home. 

“We’re cute.”

_”We are.”_

Kara hung up the phone, and Alex buried her face in her hands. She’d made her choice, and while she knew it was the right one, that didn’t make anything about it easier.

“Want to come with me to explain to our professors why I’ll be out of class for the next few days?” Alex asked.

Dalia snorted. “God no.”

”But you’ll still come?”

”Yeah.”

_-_

_Serenity Park, Midvale..._

_-_

“I should have told you about me. I should have told you the truth.” 

Kara wasn’t really crying, it was more like she was just hyperventilating; her exhales were short and stuttered into her hands with bursts of uncontrollable spittle flying past her lips. When she inhaled desperately every so often, it was shrill and painful.

Then she’d calm down for a minute, and she’d say something like she was fine.

Then she wouldn’t be fine again.

“I wish I had told you about Krypton.” Kara sighed, leaning back against Kenny’s headstone. She was sitting on the fresh dirt of his grave—disrespectful in human culture, but it was the closest she would ever get to hugging him again. She pulled her knees up to her chest, and rucked up the collar of Kenny’s (super cool, mega bad boy) leather jacket like he used to when he wanted to pretend to be a secret agent. He’d bought the jacket hardly three weeks ago with money he’d saved up. The rest, he’d said, would go towards bus tickets to National City for the two of them. 

_“We’re gonna travel the world, but I’d like to start there. You can take me to that burger place, and then we can eat burgers on every continent!”_

They’d both known his words stemmed from a pipe dream—his parents would have hunted them down, and no one who knew Kara’s secret would be okay with her running away with a clueless human—but it hadn’t mattered. They were allowed to dream. They needed to dream. Sometimes it felt like all they had were dreams—and each other—though when Kara came home, she did so to Alex. Kenny didn’t have anyone else, even if he loved his parents dearly. 

”You would have loved Krypton.”

He would have. He loved the stars. He would always talk about space travel and aliens—how he wanted to sit down with Superman and talk about the cosmos. He thought the Man of Steel had traveled them; ridden the cosmic winds to alien worlds. 

“I would have shown you my world. I would have drawn it for you, painted it—I would have taught you my language. I _should_ have. I...I should have.” Kara’s smile was the result of a confusing jumble of nostalgia. She didn’t like nostalgia. The spectrum between happiness and sadness was a blur, and it _hurt_. “Learning Kryptahniuo would have probably been the most challenging thing you’ve done since the ninth grade.”

“He always got a kick out of my terrible Spanish accent,” a new voice said. “He’ll be laughing so hard in heaven when he hears my Kryptahniuo that God will shush him like Mr. Montoya used to.”

Kara peeked out from between her fingers. There was Alex, skinnier then she had been three and a half months ago, in Kara’s favorite red hoodie and holding a large black umbrella. 

Kara hadn’t even noticed it was raining.

“Y-you— _hic!_ ”

Alex approached and extended a hand. She wouldn’t step on the fresh dirt of Kenny’s grave—she wouldn’t step on Kenny. Kara herself had scooted into place, because while buring loved ones in the earth was a human tradition, she couldn’t bring herself to let the bottoms of her Converse touch the ground where Kenny was tucked away. Alex pulled Kara up to stand, though it wasn’t really necessary at all, and embraced her beneath her umbrella. 

“Yeah, I’m here.” Alex carded her fingers through Kara’s wet hair. She’d gone to the house to take Kara’s sweater, so it smelled both like Alex’s perfume and the chicken Eliza had fried two nights ago. “I’m sorry I missed the funeral. I was supposed to take the red eye but it got delayed.” 

Kara’s voice was muffled by Alex’s neck. “It’s okay. You’re here now. I can’t—I can’t tell you how amazing that is.” 

She hadn’t wanted to pull Alex away from college—to take yet another thing away from her sister—but Alex had come anyway. 

“Whenever you need me, I’ll always be there. I promise.”

Alex had come because she loved her. This was what family did. Her House would have rallied around her if someone she cared for died—they would have grieved with her, albeit in their own stoic way before crying in private—but Kara’s House was down to two, and Kal wasn’t responding to her messages. 

Kara sighed, breathing still stuttered. She wrapped her arms around Alex’s thin waist and waited for her heart to slow. 

“I lo— _hic!_ —I love you.”

“I love you too.”

_-_

_The Danvers family residence, Midvale..._

_-_

Kara was clicking throughout Kenny’s laptop. “Hey Alex, look! The Lee’s gave me Kenny’s telescope and all of his files are here. He sorted his photos by month, day and type—comets, constellations, planets and everything. He—oh _Rao_.”

Alex walked briskly into the room, ruffling her hair with a towel. “What?”

”I-It’s me. He has photos of _me_.” 

“You guys took pictures all the ti— _shit_.”

On the screen was a photograph of Kara mid-flight. It was a bit blurry, given her speed, but there was no mistaking the blonde hair or Kara’s red hoodie. 

”He didn’t tell anyone.” Kara’s voice dropped to a trembling whisper. “He kept it a secret. He didn’t tell. He could have.”

Alex lunged forward as Kara’s face pinched, her cheeks growing ruddy. She pulled Kara to her chest, thumbs rubbing behind her ears, beneath them, and just below Kara’s eyes to wipe her tears away.

Against Alex’s stomach, Kara confessed, “I wish I had told h-him— _hic!_ ”

“You were listening to what mom and dad—”

”What if h-h-he would be alive if I’d-I’d only tol— _hic!_ —old him?”

Alex clutched Kara tighter to her body. She didn’t complain when arms squeezed too tightly around her waist. She couldn’t have. “Kara—Kara you can’t think like that. You can’t ponder over those what-ifs or you’ll torture yourself.” 

“I ca-can’t _help_ it. It’s my f-fault.”

Alex kept her voice low and soothing. She channeled her dad, because Jeremiah had been the best at calming Kara down with his words—at calming everyone down, really. “What happened to Kenny was an accident. It might’ve happened had you never come to Midvale, it might’ve happened if you’d told him about your powers, or it might’ve happened no matter what you or I or anyone did. Okay?”

”O-Okay.” 

Alex knew it wasn’t okay. 

-

_A classified underground location, Northern California..._

-

“J’onn, please let me do this.” 

“That’s not my name, Agent Danvers.”

Jeremiah rubbed harshly at his face, teeth clenched. He rose with a faint slam against his desk. “Those kids in Metropolis last fall were just that— _kids_. They had to get the weapons from somewhere, and no paper or news station had any more information than us. Actually, we all had same the information—jack _shit_.” 

Hank stood with his hands on his hips. His lips, usually pursed in almost constant displeasure, twitched into a brief smile. “I’ve never seen you this riled up. Didn’t think you were a man who liked to fight.”

”I like to help people; do damage control. Whatever this is, it has the potential to get bad if we have a repeat—and at this rate Superman might not be able to help without serious backlash.”

Most papers had begun casting Lex Luthor in an angelic light, and Superman was shaping up to be the modern day Lucifer. Even the Daily Planet had shifted into critiques of the Man of Steel—though Lois Lane and Clark Kent, his most notable supporters, hadn’t been on the byline of much in weeks. 

”The DEO would never harm—”

”You can’t promise that. Don’t feed me lies.” Jeremiah crossed his arms but then quickly uncrossed them. He jabbed a finger at the ground, punctuating his words with a repeat. “One of my kids is—you can’t promise that you won’t hurt my daughter. My _daughter_ , J’onn. You can’t tell me that this place doesn’t hurt kids, that this place isn’t willing to—especially Kara.”

Hank rubbed at his forehead with a lone hand, eyes downcast. “I’m not the king of some castle, Jeremiah. Some things aren’t up to me.” 

“But this is.” 

“Agent Danvers—”

”We don’t even know what these people _call_ themselves—”

”We don’t even know if _these people_ even _exist_.”

Jeremiah clenched his jaw. “But you believe it. You read my proposal and reviewed my evidence—”

”Evidence which took up one page in a book of conjecture and conspiracy theories.” 

“You _know_ —”

”Hank Henshaw isn’t supposed to know things prisoners don’t say out loud.” Hank pursed his lips, closing his teeth around the shout building in his throat. He gestured at the door. “Go clean up and get some rest.” 

“Hank—”

” _Director_.”

”Director Henshaw—”

”I will review your undercover proposal in the morning. Now go and get some rest.”

Jeremiah’s grin was broad and full of teeth. Hank wondered what he would look life he received orders to return home to his family, or if this—the DEO, fighting aliens, stopping threats left and right—had consumed him. Working here did something to people. It changed their mindset—made them paranoid, sometimes cocky, and it had the potential to get them addicted to adrenaline.

It made some of his agents dirty abusers, and others borderline fanatically good at their job. 

“Thank you, sir.”

Jeremiah was shaping up to be the latter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve sort of pushed Kenny to the side, which I’m not really happy about, but I don’t think this is the story where I flush out his character and make him critical to Kara’s story.
> 
> ALSO, “gadiahr” is an actual Kryptonian word I pulled from [Kryptonian.info]. It just means ‘red’ but hey, who cares? 
> 
> I definitely recommend checking out the website! It’s a treasure trove of information pulled from comics/tv/movies.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Kara and Lena met was the first time Lex had tried (with his own hands, directly) to kill Clark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skimmed over it, so there isn’t much editing (there never is, honestly—which I’ll change I promise).

  _-_

_The outskirts of Smallville, Kansas..._

_-_

”This is the only sample you could find?” Lex asked, tone low and disappointed. “In that giant field, no doubt riddled with artifacts from space? This is it? A piece the size of a marble. Really?”

The leader of the search team, Captain Boggs of the United States Army, opened his mouth to speak. 

“It was rhetorical, you _fucking idiot!“_ Lex bellowed. He slammed his hands into his desk, knocking over a tin full of pencils and his cup of sugar-loaded black coffee. Boggs refused to flinch. 

“Get out and find me more, or you can kiss any sort of career in America goodbye. They won’t even hire you as a janitor if I don’t get a sample bigger than this bullshit.” 

Boggs left with a stiff nod and an upper lip that wanted to curl into a snarl. His men waiting outside looked like they were close to marching into Lex’s office to punch him in the throat. Bringing Lex Luthor into their mission to protect humanity from alien threats had looked decent on paper, but in execution it was a nightmare for the people on the ground.

Once the door was closed, Lillian stepped forward from her place by the windows to settle a hand on Lex’s shoulder. She squeezed lightly, catching his attention.

“The thinnest sliver of it in his heart would kill him. Big things can come from small beginnings. Never forget that.” 

Lex’s nostrils flared. He’d long since moved past needing her advice. “I need enough to run tests to understand its chemical composition, _mother_.”

”I know.”

”No,” Lex snapped. He turned to glare at Lillian. “You _don’t_. Don’t pretend to understand a damn bit of what I do. Get back to the circus you call an organization in Metropolis while I do the _real_ work.” 

Lillian’s hand slid to the back of Lex’s neck. “The real work? The _real work_?“ An amused sound passed through her pursed lips. “You talk a big game, smiling in front of the cameras and tinkering by yourself in your lab while _I_ manage our funds and network to secure us allies. _I_ have built Cadmus from nothing.

“You’ve never said it to anyone but that blasted nanny from your childhood, but you might want to employ a _thank you_ every now and then with your mother.” 

Lex, still coming off of his tantrum, was seething. His clenched fists were planted on his desk. “Get. Out.” 

Lillian pressed a kiss to the crown of Lex’s head. “I’m going.” 

At the threshold, Lillian stopped, but she kept her back to Lex. 

“You’re welcome for the army, son.”

Lex smiled despite himself, one part grudgingly impressed and three parts amusement. “Thank you, mother. Your security will escort you home.” 

Now Lillian looked back. Her smile was small, but it had a ghost of genuine affection. “You’ve always kept me safe.”

”I always will.”

_-_

_Midtown, Metropolis, one year later..._

_-_

“Malcolm? Malcolm! Where are you going?!” 

“Wait here Miss Luthor,” Malcolm ordered. He was her security and her personal driver; vetted and hired by Lex himself. 

And also a complete, utter fucking idiot. 

“I’m gonna go get that sonuvabitch and then we’ll go to the airport. Don’t worry.” He looked back her, glowing with pride and joy. “I’m gonna end the war your brother started.” 

Lena closed her eyes and tucked herself into the corner of the backseat as Malcolm charged out of their vehicle and rushed toward the alley across the street. Rain had darkened the skies and blurred Lena’s vision—she wouldn’t see anything unless it was within five feet of her window.

Lex and his small army, all outfitted in his experimental warsuits, had marched down first avenue to take on the Man of Steel. They had disrupted the Mayor’s hastily-assembled pro-alien speech. Lena had seen it happen live during an emergency broadcast on Metro One, the default channel on her television in Lex’s loft. 

To the rest of the world, it was just a masked man or a masked _thing_ in a green mechsuit, but Lena knew it was Lex. She’d seen his blueprints—for the _Godkiller Warsuit_. 

He’d told her it was just another day at the office, not that he’d be alien hunting. 

Christ. _Alien hunting_. 

Was this what the world had come to?

Helicopter footage had shown Superman being tossed straight through Metro General Hospital. He scrambled to catch falling bodies even as Lex pummeled the back of his skull with his green metal fists. 

Four bodies, all too small to be adults, had struck the pavement. Lena had looked away before the camera could pan to the remnants of their bodies. Right after that, she’d been manhandled into a black SUV by her personal security team.

In that moment, as Malcolm fired wildly into the alleyway, Lena could see those small bodies still falling behind her eyelids. 

How could Lex do that? How could he let them fall? How could he not try to save them? How were they not his priority? He’d said for so long that protecting his family was paramount; he’d called all of Metropolis his family. 

It had all been lies.

 _Bam!_ One _. Bam!_ Two _._

This had been Lex’s plan all along. It had never been about bringing peace to the East Coast and protecting humanity from alien threats. 

 _Bam!_ Three _. Bam!_ Four _._

It had been about killing Superman. 

 _Bam! Bam!_ Five. Six _._

That man at The Daily Planet—Clark?—he had been right about Lex’s xenophobia. That exposé last year hadn’t been the mad ramblings of a delusional, envious reporter on probation—they had been the truth. 

But who wasn’t at least a little xenophobic? Was it really so terrible to not like aliens? No one had said they were welcome. 

 _Bam!_ Seven _. Bam! Bam!_ Eight. Nine.

 _Bam! Bam!_ Ten _._ Eleven _. Bam!_ Twelve _._

Lena knew from experience with the model of Malcolm’s gun that he had seventeen rounds per clip. Why had he stopped firing?

She screamed a second later, because Malcolm’s face had broken through the skylight, and his body dented the hood. 

Heavy rain filtered in as Lena trembled out of fear; it was stained, passing over the broken skin of Malcolm’s face and carrying his blood down to soak Lena’s clothes. She gasped for breath, mindlessly touching the space around her with shaky fingers in attempt to ground herself.

Superman had fallen from the sky. Instead of Malcolm taking her to airport, he’d tracked the Man of Steel to this location. 

Superman was in that alley. 

Superman had killed—Malcolm groaned, nearly unconscious—Superman had  _incapacitated_ her only present security.

But Superman was also being hunted. He was injured. He needed help.

He wasn’t a monster. He’d tried to save those falling children, and Lex hadn’t cared. 

Lex had killed them. _Lex_.

Lena bit the skin of her knuckles to muffle her one-second shout of frustration before she opened the door and stumbled out into the rain. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck _fuck!_ “ Lena hissed, abandoning her heels in the middle of the road to sprint barefoot. She could see Superman sprawled there on the floor, his cape half-covering what looked like a badly broken arm. 

Carried by momentum and hindered by anxiety, Lena slipped and slid forward, falling hard on her knees. She hesitated, hands hovering over Superman’s weak form. 

“What do I do?” She asked, breath catching. 

_“GET AWAY FROM HIM!”_

Lena turned on bloody knees, covering Superman protectively—or possibly in search of protection—against a tall girl with solid neon blue eyes. Her hood was pulled up. It was about the only part of her powder blue hoodie that was still intact; the body of it was ripped to shreds, exposing her toned stomach, though Lena could make out the word _HOPE_ in college font over her left breast; the arms were in pieces, and it was barely holding together around her armpits. 

She looked like she’d been through hell. Like she’d been fighting Lex’s men, or Lex himself.

“I’m trying to—” Lena swallowed, “—to help.”

” _K—raaa_ ,” Superman groaned, rolling to his side. He cried out when his broken arm shifted, and Lena noticed a shard of something green buried in the outer part of his right pectoral. “Get...get _out_. It. You.”

The girl advanced, but stopped quickly when Lena held up her hands. 

“If you’re anything like him, you can’t come any closer. This rock—it’ll make you sick, like it’s making him sick. It’s designed to hurt you.” The rain was getting heavier, and the cold had seeped into Lena’s bones. “I can help him, but not if—not if you kill me.” 

The girl’s eyes dimmed until there was no glow anymore, and her hood casted a shadow that concealed what they looked like normally. She ran so hot that steam curled from her shoulders. 

“I would never ki—” she shook her head, “—please, help my cousin. By Rao I swear no harm will come to you.” 

The girl’s strange oath didn’t stop Lena from flinching when she ran over, too fast to be human. 

“Keep your distance. Proximity is nearly as bad as direct contact.” 

“I can—” the girl grunted, falling against the red brick wall to her left. She scrabbled for purchase to keep herself upright, and her fingers dug deep into the brick, goring it. She choked on nothing, grasping at her own throat before rasping; “I can tell.” 

Lena grimaced as she dug her fingers into Superman’s chest, feeling around inside to get a good grip so she’d only have to do it once. Her face pinched when he whined, and she jumped back with a yelp when he screamed, but in her bloody hand was the piece of kryptonite that had been buried halfway into his body.

Getting to tour with Lex during his project with the Army had more benefits than Lena could have imagined. 

The girl gathered Superman in her arms like he weighed the same as an infant and looked up at the sky. 

“We will go far from here, Kal-El,” she murmured, but not quiet enough for Lena to not hear. 

Before they launched into the sky, Lena stepped forward. “Wait, I... I don’t...”

Why exactly did she want them to wait?

At this distance, the girl’s features were visible. Her hood was stuck to her wavy hair, which was plastered to her cheeks and forehead; it was blonde. Her eyes were as blue as they had been when they were glowing, beautiful and almost impossibly vibrant. 

“I...” 

“Oh. Forgive me—thank you, ah, _ma’am_.” 

“Lena.” 

The girl’s head tilted to the side, like a puppy. “Lena?”

”My name—it’s Lena.” 

The girl pulled Superman closer, his good arm wrapping around her neck. “Thank you, Lena.” 

They were gone with a _whoosh_ , and Lena was left in the rain, alone. 

_-_

_The Danvers family residence, Midvale..._

_-_

“I have money, Aunt Martha—I’m a bike courier now, and people tip fairly in National City. I can get you a ticket to California and—”

_”You save your money, Kara. I’m okay. Just tell me how my baby’s doing.”_

“He’s...” Kara looked back into the house, tilting her glasses down. They’d put Kal in the master bedroom so there was more space, though his treatment process had begun on the dining room table. Eliza was currently scrubbing the lacquered wood of her cousin’s blood. Kara turned away with a harsh swallow. “He’s recovering. Eliza says her skills with stitching are rusty, but they look very uniform. He sunbathes every morning, but we take him in at noon. Sol will heal him slowly.”

Kal was fragile now, Eliza had explained. Like a baby. He would burn in the noon sun before his cells absorbed enough to tan or become invulnerable, and that wouldn’t do him any good in his current state. 

_“You sound so formal, sweetheart. I know the stress is getting to you.”_

“I am... I’m—I’m afraid, Aunt Martha. Those men were strong. Men have never been that strong before on this planet.” 

 _”Evil men are always very strong. You took care of them, though.”_ Martha sounded so full of pride that Kara felt it in her chest. Her spine straightened, and she pushed her shoulders back. _“Brilliant girl. Be proud.”_  

“That’s not—that’s not what Eliza said.” 

The first thing Eliza had asked after she’d patched Kal up was, _“did anyone see your face? Your glasses? Was your hair down or up?”_

Only then did she ask if Kara was okay.

 _“Jonathan would have gone to war if someone tried to take Clark away. Imagine how scared Eliza must be. It’s the same fear I feel, sweetheart. We can’t lose you—either of you—and we’ve been taking care of you both for so long that keeping others out and you hidden is instinct.”_ Martha sighed. Kara could hear her clothes shifting against the couch in her living room in Smallville; she was in her favorite cotton pajamas. _“Remember, she’s stressed too. We aren’t our best selves right now.”_

“You’re always your best self,” Kara teased, lacking anything better to say.

Martha chuckled. She changed the conversation gracefully.  _”You never saw me swatting at Clark and his friends with a broom when they were exploding cans of soda in my living room.”_

Kara grinned, shaking her head. “I miss your stories.” 

_“You have time to listen to a couple?”_

Kara looked back at the master bedroom window. Kal’s heart was steady, and his breathing was even. “Yeah.” 

_“Alright then. When Clark was a little boy, he loved to chase butterflies in our backyard. He’d sprint after them and jump as high as he could, but he’d never reach them. One year—he must have been six or seven—he would jump, and instead of coming right back down, he’d float. I remember when...”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I avoided writing action-heavy scenes by utilizing Lena’s pedestrian POV. I’m practicing writing them, though.
> 
> Also, I know I completely skipped over Kara’s first year at Stanhope and/or her remaining months at Midvale High, and her grappling with a major and such, but this is a pivotal moment for her that will bleed into her choices going forward—choices that do involve college and her future career. 
> 
> That and I couldn’t think of anything else to do.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midvale. Arkham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is aight.
> 
> Oh and I went back and did little edits/revisions for all the other chapters, but this only added like 800-900 words of content that doesn’t change anything significant.

_-_

_The Danvers family residence, Midvale..._

_-_

Routine, Kara knew, would help keep her calm when Martha couldn’t be on the phone. Eliza, for all her sweet intentions and the general ferocity of her love, couldn’t stop Kara’s trembling, so Kara sought to stop it herself. 

For a while, pre-breakfast had been homemade protein bars that Kara made herself. They were an idea of Jeremiah’s, to offset Kara’s required caloric intake per day—which increased by thousands as she matured. Whey protein, powdered milk, oats, Nutella, peanut butter, and honey were the base of the bars. Normally they averaged at around a thousand calories each, so if she had four or five, she could enjoy three gluttonous meals each day afterward—if she didn’t do anything strenuous, which she usually didn’t. 

In the wake of the fight in Metropolis, Kara had been downing seven or eight, and eating nothing else for the rest of the day. The routine lie in eating them; she’d go slow—eight reasonable bites—and sip water twice in between each.

Today Kara ate four with a tall glass of water at the kitchen island at seven in the morning. Usually she was successful about forcing herself to eat enough, but today her will was particularly weak.

Still, she ate.

Bite. Chew slow. Two sips of water.

Bite. Chew slow. Two sips of water.

Bite. Chew slow. Two sips of water.

All of the lights were off, and it left the first level of the Danvers home a sea of dull blues and greys. All of the curtains and blinds had been pulled over the windows, so the sunlight that managed to illuminate the walls filtered in as a powder blue glow. Everything was blue. Cold, unforgiving and not peaceful like it should have been. 

Bite. Chew slow. Two sips of water.

Everything was too loud—like Eliza coming down the stairs. Kara could hear the scrape of a rough rag run across Eliza’s hands as she cleaned them; she was probably wiping away blood after changing Clark’s bandages.

”Goodmorning sweetheart.” 

Bite. Chew slow. Two sips of water.

Eliza opened the fridge and pulled out pancake mix, eggs and milk. “We have chocolate chips, so I’m thinking chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. Clark’s ready for some soft solid foods, so if we mash it up a bit and go slow, he can enjoy breakfast with us.”

Bite. Chew slow. Two sips of water.

Kara stared at the blinds that hid the backyard window. The pale blue glow of it was like her eyes when they were burning. She’d seen Kal’s the same on video, when he was fighting Lex Luthor before the rain became heavy and blinding.

She’d watched the footage over and over and—

”Kara? Sweetie?”

Kara squeezed her glass without thinking, and quickly let go when it began to erupt in tiny cracks. ”Remember... Remember that film—the one Jeremiah was so adamant about me not watching? District 9?” 

Kara could hear Eliza’s heart skip a beat; her breath caught. 

“It’s just a movie, but he got so _angry_ when Alex tried to watch it in the den with her friends. I was upstairs, but I could hear the anger in his voice; the way his breathing and his heart rate sped up. He was so furious with her, and it was just a movie.” Kara turned, elbows leaving the cold marble of the kitchen island so she could look back at Eliza. “But I watched it once, at Stanhope in the commonspace. It’s...” 

Kara trailed off, and Eliza capitalized on her silence. 

“It’s not like that, Kara.” Eliza’s voice was thick, like she’s struggled to say anything. “There are no refugee camps for aliens, and there are no experi—”

”If my skin weren’t invulnerable, would you have experimented on me? More than the EEGs?” 

Eliza rushed forward, but she stopped a foot away, hands held up uselessly. “Kara—Kara _no_.”

”They experiment on us, don’t they.” Kara worked her jaw, rotating it and clenching her teeth to distract herself from the burn behind her eyes. “The ones with vulnerable skin. They find us; take us somewhere.”

It was ‘ _us’_  for Kara now because the line between the normal and the abnormal had shifted dramatically, and it had never been so apparent before. This was not Kara’s planet. Kara was an _alien_. Anyone not from Earth was an _alien_. They were lumped together by mankind, and Kara would lump them all together in her mind because now, on this planet, they were uniquely her peers.

She was theirs. Her people could divide themselves how they liked—Kryptonian, Circadian, Aellon, or whatever they called their unique race—it didn’t matter. They were the minority, and they just... felt like Kara’s. She didn’t even know any of them but they felt like _hers_.

 _Her_ people, in a way that she didn’t feel humanity could ever be. 

It was like when Alex was a teenager, and she’d told Kara that it was teens versus adults; like they were each a separate species, constantly at odds.

”Kara—”

”Humans...” Kara looked around, eyes falling to the individual tiles that made up the kitchen floor. “Humans know we’re here. They don’t like us. They don’t—” Kara exhaled shakily. She pulled off her glasses and rubbed at her eyes. Her trembling had gotten worse. “They tried to kill Kal-El, Eliza. They tried to kill my baby cou—” Kara clamped a hand over her mouth, forced down a sob and let her lungs burn instead. 

It had taken a week and a half for Kara to break down. Her routine had failed her.

Eliza didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around her, squeezing Kara with all the power she had.

“Lex Luthor did try to kill Clark, but you _stopped_ him.” In a fit of terror and rage Kara had unleashed her heat vision in the midst of the heavy rainstorm and Lex had dropped from the sky. Eliza called it a fortunate blow, but a part of Kara had wanted to burn him to ash, and her body had complied as best as it was able. “And someone else helped you save Clark. That someone else was a _human,_ just like Lex Luthor _._  Proof that some of us—some of us _care_ , Kara, because regardless of where you’re from, you’ve got a heart and a soul and you deserve to _live_. Jerry and I have known this from the start, and we’ll never forget. Alex will never forget, and neither will the people who realized that Lex Luthor is a _monster_.

”Humans have a great capacity for good, Kara. Am I not good to you? Alex? Jerry?”

Kara nodded against Eliza’s shoulder.

”We try and we fail and we learn. What happened in Metropolis was a learning experience. The world is _changing_ —expanding in a way humanity needs time to adjust to. Give us time.”

_-_

_Arkham Asylum, Gotham_

_-_

“Mother says your security team found you on fifty-first and seventh, covered in blood and holding my property.” 

Lex’s pursed upper lip twitched just once. It was one of his tells when he was barely restraining his rage. At this level, his body was stiff as a board, shaking with violent kinetic energy, and his eyes—grey, like their shared father and his mother—were wild with dark thoughts.

The last time he’d been this angry, he’d been twenty, Lena twelve. Lionel had just died, and Lillian had chosen to highlight his faults instead of comforting his children.

Lena didn’t care. She didn’t care that he was upset. She didn’t care that he was apparently upset with _her_. It didn’t matter. What mattered was what _he_ had done. _He_ was in the wrong. 

“Oh, my security team? Do you mean the _National Guard_?” Her voice began to climb until she was shouting. Being loud was better than shaking like a meek little thing in her seat. “Or how about Malcolm, who left me to go chasing after Superman in an alleyway and nearly _died_. Do you mean _him_?” 

“Lena, don’t raise your voice. It’s not—”

”You tried to _kill_ Superman.”

”I tried to _stop_ him—”

“From what?!” Lena cried, arms sweeping outward. ”The death count is at ninety-eight, Lex. Half of those deaths are _children_ , all of them patients at the hospital _you_ funded; the hospital you _destroyed_ when you—”

” _I WAS TRYING TO PROTECT US!_ ” Lex screamed, spittle flying from his lips. He lunged out of his seat towards Lena, dragging the table forward with him when he couldn’t break the chains that kept him attached to it. “Everything I ever did was to protect this family from invaders like him. Monsters like him don’t belong here. They’re a _risk_. He tried to _kill_ me!”

Lena flattened herself against the far wall, the one-way glass behind her. Lex kept shoving at the heavy table. Where the hell was security? ”I-I doubt he tried to kill you.” 

Lex had stopped advancing. His breathing was fast, and his nostrils flared with every inhale. His anger was still apparent in the harsh line of his brow, but his eyes were wide and wet. He looked almost _hurt_. “Do you really? You saw what he did to Malcolm.”

”Malcolm was trying to—”

”Protect you.” Lex sighed. He retreated and fell back into his chair, chains clinking around his wrists and ankles. “Superman has this ability—calls it _x-ray vision_. No one can just run away from him, especially us and our security team. Malcolm’s orders were to finish the job if an opportunity presented itself, to keep Superman from following you, and he...” Lex gritted his teeth; his next word was growled, “ _tried_. Just like I did, Lena. We both failed, and I’m sorry about that. I’m so, _so_ sorry.” 

“Lex you can’t—“ Lena buried her face in her hands. She slid down the wall to sit on the floor and rubbed at her eyes, exhaustion making every part of her feel heavy. “You can’t just tear our lives apart like this.”

The Daily Planet had already painted him as a villain, likening him to the Joker, who was imprisoned in Arkham just like Lex was now. Other publications were more fair, but no one presented a more level-headed recounting of events than reporter Lois Lane—a woman on the Daily Planet payroll and Superman’s self-proclaimed number one fan. She’d circumvented her paper in favor of publishing online, capitalizing on her significant star-power to draw an audience of twelve thousand, who then shared her work and carried it forward to thousands more eyes. The effect had snowballed, but most people still called it all bullshit, and the people who dubbed themselves  _Luthor Loyalists_ weren’t helping matters either. 

“ _Luthors are the law_ ,” they chanted, standing nobly in the face of the dominant anti-Luthor crowds that formed to shut them down with violence. The love for Superman ran deeper than anything, and it manifested itself in the form of fists and, after one bad altercation, a vicious riot. 

Christ—it had only been a week and a half.

”I’ll fix it, Lena.” Lex’s voice was tender and gentle. He used to speak like that to her when Lillian made her cry. “I’ll fix all of this. Just tell me what happened.” 

“What?” 

”I could only buy us so much time together—alone.” Lex sat forward eagerly, fingers linked atop his chains. He looked like a boy who’d stumbled into the greatest candy shop in the world. “Now come on, talk to me. I know he couldn’t escape on his own, but the rain was too heavy for my drones to get any images.”

Like this, eager with that familiar, determined glint in his eye, Lex looked like Lena’s brother. With his tone largely even, wobbling only a bit in his excitement, he sounded like her brother. But then Lena glanced down and saw his chains and his ghastly orange jumpsuit. And if she gave it a moment’s thought, how he’d screamed at her just a second before flooded her memory and made her muscles tense in fear. 

This was Lex, her brother, but it also wasn’t. 

How did he go from screaming at her to _this_? How did he switch it up so effortlessly? What was real? Was any of it genuine, or, like his mother, was he a brilliant actor?

It didn’t matter in the end, Lena knew. It wasn’t about that right now. Lex wanted an answer, and Lena needed to give him it. 

Whether or not it was true didn’t matter either.

“I didn’t—I didn’t see much.” Lena rose to stand and sat back in her chair, this time with an extra foot of distance from the table and from Lex. She wouldn’t risk being close in the event of another outburst.

”You saw enough to help him.” It could have been a clear statement, but it sounded more like an accusation.

Lena ignored Lex’s momentary sneer in favor of looking at her own hands; they were shaking. 

“He was still very strong, even with the kryptonite. Once I went into the alley he-he forced me to help him and—”

”Why did you go into the alley?”

_’To try and help him. To protect him from you.’_

”I’m a Luthor; I’m curious. I wanted to see if he was dead.” 

Lex grinned, but it wasn’t boyish and victorious like Lena knew it used to be. This one was cold—how was it cold?

When had he changed?

”You and I are two peas in a pod.” The pride in Lex’s voice was identical to how it was when Lena was young, acing spelling bees and obliterating adult champions at chess. It shouldn’t have been. “I knew I could count on you, Lee. That’s why you and I need to iron some things out before you go. Our lawyers will take care of everything officially, but this is very important to me, and I wanted to tell you myself, before all the ugliness of the trial and without mother in the way.” 

Lex paused, and Lena was beyond having patience. “What is it?”

”Mother is busy with...other things—things you don’t need to worry about. You always wanted to help me with LuthorCorp, and I couldn’t think of a better successor. I’m giving you the company to run in my absence.” 

_‘What?’_

_-_

_Eliza’s master bedroom, Midvale..._

_-_

“Sup Clark.” 

“Alex?” Clark croaked, eyes half open. He opened and closed his hands like a sleepy baby, moving slow to grasp at Alex’s thin wrist. He managed a dopey smile. “Hi.” 

“You look better then you did on FaceTime last week, Man of Steel.” Alex gently pried his hand from her wrist and clasped it between her own. Everything about her, Kara observed, was gentle now. She’d never been gentle with Clark in any way before—particularly after he had stopped calling Kara. “I’m sorry I’m here so late. I had to finish up my summer internship at the hospital.” 

“Yay,” Clark murmured. “An actual doctor can take care of me now.” 

Alex bit her lip, but she couldn’t fully stop her amused smile. “Well, I’m as close as you’re gonna get. Once I check dad’s notes and the bullshit rain and cloudiness stops, we’ll get you back to sunbathing. Okay?”

”M’kay.”

Alex patted the back of Clark’s hand before slowly pulling away. “Get your sleep. Kara and I are here, okay?”

”M’kay.” 

Alex stepped away, speeding up the closer she got to Kara until she collided against her. She threw her arms around Kara’s neck, hoisting herself up the few inches Kara had on her like a kid on a jungle gym. Kara squeezed her just a bit too tightly around her middle, hiding her face in Alex’s neck. She was trembling again. 

“I’m so sorry,” Alex whispered, trembling herself. “ _Fuck_. The internship—”

”We’re okay. We were okay. We’re okay now.”

Nothing was actually okay, but if anything was close to it, it was Alex giving a damn about her future and trying to build it from the ashes Kara had rendered her life to. 

Alex pulled away enough to look Kara in the eyes. She cupped Kara’s cheek, examining her from her hairline to her chin; scanning for any signs of ill health. 

Kara smiled. “I’m okay.” 

“I’m always going to worry.” 

“I’m—”

”Don’t you _dare_ apologize,” Alex commanded, entirely too tough and demanding for someone being held up in Kara’s arms. She tapped Kara’s forehead, right where her crinkle was. “And don’t get any ideas about you ruining my life or stopping me from getting my degree. I chose to come back because you’re my family, and I will _always_ choose to come back. For you, for mom, for Clark. You’re mine to worry about.” Alex’s next words were almost an accusation: “ _You_ worry.” 

Kara huffed, setting Alex down on her own two feet. “ _You’re_ not bulletproof.” 

Alex sobered. “You and Clark aren’t always either.” 

The man that had stormed into the alleyway had landed one good shot on Clark’s thigh; a through and through. 

Kara swallowed with a bit of a struggle and looked away. Alex was quick to shift the conversation. 

“I grabbed your stuff from your dorm like you asked. Your laptop, all your notebooks and the USBs in your desk. I even splurged and got you a Moleskine notebook.” She gestured at the large backpack she’d dropped upon entering the room. “It’s in the smaller pocket with the newspapers you wanted.”

”Thank you.”

Alex gave a mock salute. Kara could see the effort she made to stay positive in the forced upward pull of her lips and brows. “Happy to do reconnaissance, ma’am.” 

Kara grinned despite herself. She gestured to the chairs Eliza had her bring into the master bedroom. “Wanna sit? You can read the papers with me.”

”I’m... I’m actually gonna go downstairs and talk with mom. I haven’t really been calling her, and after everything I just...” Alex shrugged, scratching the back of her head. “I just want to catch up, you know?”

The sensation of being out of place, foreign, _alien_ , had ebbed away into nothing with Alex home. Alex was strong and confident and fantastic at everything, and when she was around Kara just... felt like she was doing a pretty good job herself. Her skin felt okay, where at other times it felt like an awkward prison she’d never escape from.

Kara might have wanted Alex in the room with her, but having her in the house was enough. Eliza needed her daughter, too. 

”Yeah,” Kara nodded, swallowing around the practically permanent lump in her throat. “I know. Go. I’ll be here.” 

Alex left the room with a gentle smile, and Kara listened to her pad down the creaky stairs before refocusing on her backpack. 

She pulled out the new Moleskine—it’s cover was navy blue, and it wasn’t too big nor too thin or thick—the LA Times, the San Francisco Chronicle, the National City Tribune and that month’s issue of CatCo Magazine, released just that week. From the largest pocket she retrieved her laptop and scrounged up a pen from the bottom, beneath her notebooks. With everything in her arms, she plopped down in a chair beside the bed, dumping the papers on the floor in favor of her laptop and new notebook. 

Opening up a new browser, Kara typed in ‘ _Lena_.’

One of the suggestions was _Lena Luthor_.

Kara used the arrow key to select it, and hit ‘enter.’ Dozens of articles from the Globe, the Daily Planet, the New York Times and a dozen other notable publications filled the first page. 

**‘LENA LUTHOR FOUND COVERED IN BLOOD BY NATIONAL GUARD’**

**’LENA LUTHOR AND WHAT HER SILENCE MEANS’**

**’LENA LUTHOR SEEN EXITING ARKHAM ASYLUM’**

**’BREAKING: LENA LUTHOR A CO-CONSPIRATOR IN THE SUPERMAN ASSAULT’**

**’LENA LUTHOR: ANOTHER XENOPHOBE’**

**’LUTHORS ARE THE LAW?’**

**‘LENA LUTHOR NEXT IN LINE FOR THE THRONE?’**

Kara selected the images for Lena’s profile and almost immediately closed her eyes. 

Lena Luthor was _her_ Lena. She wasn’t soaking wet or covered in Kal-El’s blood in any of these photos, but Kara knew it was her Lena. Same dark hair, same pale skin, same green eyes. She was unforgettable, after what she did. 

In her back pocket, Kara’s phone rang. Caller ID told her that it was James Olsen, Clark’s friend from the Daily Planet—Lois didn’t have Kara’s number, and Kal’s phone had been smashed to pieces in the pocket beneath his cape. 

James, like probably everyone else, was going to flip when he found out about the identity of Kara’s heroic human friend from Metropolis. 

“Hey James.”

-

Downstairs, Alex hid her hunger and excitement when Eliza wordlessly set an open beer down in front of her, and forced herself to sip casually. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh and the District 9 stuff is just because I watched it today. They treat the Prawns like shit and it always pisses me off.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a hot minute since I’ve touched my ao3 account and this story. I’m sorry for the massive gap—life’s wild!
> 
> Anywho, here’s the latest installment. It’s a pretty old draft that I’ve spruced up a bit. No battles or anything of the sort, but some more good ole fashioned conflict and government interference.

_-_

_The Daily Planet, Metropolis..._

_-_

“ _‘As a boy, Lex Luthor loved nothing more than reading and chess. As he grew older, his father gave him a toolbox and a technicians toolkit, and told him to create amazing things. So Lex did.’_ ” Perry stopped reading Lois’ article in favor of slamming his phone screen-down onto his desk, nostrils flaring. “What kind of _shit_ did you put on the goddamn internet? Are you one of those goddamn Luthor Loyalists half the city is up in arms about?”

”No,” Lois growled, thin hands curled into sharp, bony fists. There had been a time when Perry was a smart, level-headed man; the current atmosphere mutated those men into _morons_. “I just wrote a fair, relatively unbiased account of both what happened and who was involved.  It’s a fucking character study, Perry. We did one on the goddamn mayor a month ago.”

It wasn’t that she could really put the full weight of blame onto his shoulders. Metropolis had been shaken to its core and Lois couldn’t name more than a handful of people who were well and truly rational. It was easy to hate blindly.

”Yes, Lois, _we_ did it. _The Planet_ did it. Not one reporter with an ego so large that she can’t accept a goddamn assignment and just _do her job_.” 

“I submitted my work to you, and you rejected it.” Lois was seething. She advanced on Perry, nothing but stable and confident in her heels. She wasn’t on the job—she knew she possibly wouldn’t ever be on the job again—so her sensible shoes were back at her apartment. “Said it was _too pro-Luthor for a publication that supported Superman._ What the fuck kind of shit is that?!”

”You think I’m the only one who decides these things?” Perry whisper-shouted, visibly straining to keep from screaming in his office. Throwing a chair out of the top-floor window had nearly killed someone and landed him in anger management; he couldn’t afford another issue with HR. “You think we always get to choose the news?”

All of the outrage fled Lois’ features, replaced with stony disapproval that bordered on disgust. “I think we get to choose to tell the honest truth—and that means everything, on _both_ sides.”

Perry charged forward, stopping when they were nose-to-nose. 

“Your story was avidly pro-Luthor, and it completely ignored Lena Luthor’s involvement—”

“There is absolutely _no_ evidence of her involvement. She’s a fucking _kid_ , Perry, and she’s had a shit life—”

”She’s twenty-one, Lois. Not only is she an adult, but she can buy herself a goddamn drink.” Perry scoffed, rubbing at his receding hairline. “And yeah, with all that money I bet she really struggled.” He jabbed a finger in Lois’ direction. “Don’t let the photos of her soaking wet and looking pathetic make you forget your journalistic integrity.”

Lois blanched before her face reddened in her fury. “My _journalistic integrity_?! Says a man who puts Superman on the front cover at the _hint_ of a bullshit scandal to sell papers!”

The Planet had diligently documented every speech Lex gave, and happily plastered the Man of Steel on the front page no less than a dozen times in the past six months with the Luthor name in the headline; the entire office had gone haywire when news of Superman manhandling Lex Luthor came to light. Like Superman’s reveal almost eight years before, it had been a shocking and groundbreaking story in the eyes of everyone that wasn’t Clark’s friend. 

The alien hero showing his true colors (and helping them sell a record number of copies).

“Enough,” Perry growled. He pointed at the door. “You broke the no-compete clause of your contract. I would have forgiven it, since I’ve forgiven you for worse—” getting into a brawl with a sleazy contact and sneaking into government buildings to interview notable members of the military came to mind, “—but I’m done. _Out_.” 

Before Lois made to leave, Perry grasped her by the wrist and slapped something into her hand. 

“Last paycheck. Don’t come back.” 

At the threshold, Lois turned back to glare at Perry. She ignored the people who stared at her—including Jimmy, who clenched his jaw periodically and looked like he was five seconds away from leaving with her. 

“Clark would have written the story the way I did. He would have been fair.”

Perry visibly stiffened. Clark had sent him an email announcing that he’d taken an emergency sabbatical to take care of his cousin in California, who’d suffered a terrible accident.

Lois knew because she had written it. 

”Would he have gone against The Planet?” Perry asked, chin high. “You know he’s a stickler for the rules.” 

An amused hum passed Lois’s pursed lips. “You didn’t know him very well, Perry, if you think he wouldn’t have done what I did. The truth’s more important than any paper.

“Lex Luthor might be a monumental sociopathic shitstain, but he was a kid once; he has a story, and I won’t write bullshit that ignores clear military involvement in the assault.” 

With a heavy puff of frustrated air, Perry rumbled: “ _Out_.”

-

Downstairs, Lois loitered in the lobby. It was raining, and she didn’t have an umbrella. She waved off the clerk at the front desk, who was eager to assist once he caught sight of her face and her now-irrelevant Daily Planet press-pass. 

Opting to lean against the chilly glass of the tall first floor windows, Lois got as comfortable as she could manage without taking off her heels. She set her bag on the floor beside her and silenced her phone. With a bit of weariness, she unfolded the envelope Perry had given her. 

It wasn’t a check.

_‘Delete the blog. People unhappy. Answer your father’s calls.’_

Lois ripped it to shreds and dumped it in a nearby shiny wastebin. 

Before she could pass through the revolving doors—almost looking forward to getting soaked so that her internal misery matched her external image—a hand fell to her shoulder, and a long black umbrella was extended towards her, handle-first. 

“Thanks Jimmy.” Lois managed a semblance of a smile. She hesitated for a second before gently taking hold of his forearm. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your head down, okay?”

If General Lane was sticking his nose into her business, Lucy would be caught up in the shitstorm somehow; Jimmy would dive in head-first for the both of them, but he didn’t deserve another unfair round of barbs and threats with their father. 

Jimmy clenched his jaw, brow furrowed. He would do as Lois suggested—that Lois knew—but he would never be happy about it. Being passive was never his style, even if he was usually behind a camera. “Okay.” 

“Keep me updated—and text me Kara’s number.” 

Where Jimmy used to smile at the mention of Clark’s cousin, now he pursed his lips. He nodded anyway. “I will.” 

_-_

_Lois’s downtown brownstone, Metropolis..._

_-_

“Why would you, on a public website that carries your name, accuse the military of helping Lex Luthor attack Superman?” 

Lois crossed her arms. Her father wasn’t supposed to be inside her apartment—she’d be having a talk with the superintendent soon. “I don’t know, dad. Maybe because it’s true? A picture’s worth a thousand words.” 

“Pictures that clearly show LuthorCorp mechsuit designs.”

Lois shook her head. “Lex’s warsuit was his design, but the other mechsuits were military. They match old Lord Industries patents the Army bought a decade ago—with a few modifications.” 

The General sighed. He ran a hand across his weathered face. Lois had never seen him look so old before. “This is unfortunate. I never thought my daughter would side with an alien over her own ra—”

”A hundred and twelve people are dead,” Lois snapped, “ninety-seven at the scene and fifteen after the fact from their injuries. And Lex Luthor—” her sudden laugh was breathless and without humor, “—Lex Luthor is your _scapegoat_ for some covert-ass assassination attempt.” 

“Lois—”

”You’ve always hated him,” Lois accused, her mind full of images of Superman—the Daily Planet issue that detailed his reveal, with her sitting on his arm; Superman hefting schoolbuses and stopping bankrobberies. Nothing he could ever do would improve his image in the eyes of Sam Lane. _Nothing_. “You’ve always hated _everything_ about him. He could save _you_ and you’d still despise him.”

General Lane said nothing. 

“ _Well?_ ”

Lois’s father rose to stand, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from his dress pants. 

“Your website will be deleted tonight.” 

“You can’t—”

”You will not investigate this any further. The trial will commence, Lex Luthor will go to jail, and your job at the Daily Planet will be made available to you once again.” General Lane let himself out, and parted with a few final words. “Be careful, Lois. I can’t protect you forever.” 

Lois threw herself onto her couch with a huff and a growl of irritation. The asshole locked the door behind him, belying the key he’d gotten ahold of.

Asshole. 

She pulled out her phone. Jimmy had sent her a couple of texts. 

_[12:28PM] Jimmy: 810. 310. 1110._

_[12:28PM] Jimmy: Kara’s number._

With trembling hands, Lois added Kara to her contacts and hit ‘call.’

_-_

_The Danvers family residence, Midvale..._

_-_

_‘Lex Luthor, driven by his hatred of that which he didn’t know and couldn’t control, stood against Superman and tried to vilify the Man of Steel, as well as all aliens that now call Earth home. Taking note of this, the military handed him tools, patents and a substantial budget and told him to create something deadly. So Lex did.’_

Kara’s phone began to buzz. It was a cheap flip—Alex called it a _Jitterbug_ —that Kara had purchased to replace the mangled remains of her iPhone.

A new segment had been instated on all American news networks called _Alien Watch_ ; a thirty minute update on sightings, theories and incidents in all fifty states. Kara’s response had been to squeeze her phone with enough force to turn coal into diamond, then spend an afternoon dozing on the floor beside Clark’s bed. She hadn’t been able to process her anger, so she had swallowed it, and when she woke after the sun had set she found that Clark had tossed his blanket over her back. He’d greeted her with a blissful smile managed through ignorance. 

Before she could ruminate over Clark’s near-death and the several deaths she’d been unable to prevent—children falling, colliding with the pavement—Kara checked caller ID.

“Rao.” She flipped open the phone. “Hi Lois.” 

Kara hadn’t heard Lois’ voice in years. They texted sporadically, these moments sometimes months apart, but it didn’t dampen the sudden swell of Kara’s heart.

“ _Did you read my article?_ ” 

Kara leaned back in her chair, wincing when it began to creak under her weight. _‘So much for a hello.’_

”I’m combing through it a second time right now, actually. You’re a really good writer.” 

There was something soft and sweet in Lois’ voice when she said, “ _Thanks, Kar._ ” 

“Anywho, what’s up?” 

“ _The website is going to get removed tonight. Download everything now._ ” 

Kara stiffened at Lois’ low tone; it was commanding in its subtle urgency. She hadn’t thought about the potential backlash. “Already done.”

” _Good. I plan on reposting with some extra work and speculation sometime this month._ ” 

“Who’s removing the site?” 

“ _My father._ ” 

Kara’s eyes widened. She’d heard enough from Clark about General Lane to have a good grasp on the reasons for his infamy. 

”Guess he wasn’t a fan of your angle on what happened.” Kara sat forward, rummaging through the leaflets of paper she’d printed in Jeremiah’s old office upstairs. She found the old Lord Industries mechsuit patents and the paperwork for their purchase by the United States Army. Everything was public, which was unfortunate for those involved and a blessing for those who dug for details. “But it’s not like they can go after the US Patent and Trademark Office.”

” _Every movie about the government usually involves them sticking their dirty fingers in someone else’s honeypot._ ” Kara could hear the crisp ruffle of papers on Lois’s end. “ _The problem isn’t even them covering things up or them deleting my website. It’s that people don’t even seem to care. They either hate aliens and like that Lex tried to protect them, believing all of his bullshit speeches, or they’re happy to vilify him and ignore the military. The papers gave the world the scapegoat, and they don’t bother to look for the clear puppeteers in the shadows._ ”

“California hasn’t really been affected,” Kara said with sigh. “Most every paper had the story on their front cover but people either hate Lex Luthor or hate Clark; that’s enough of a conflict without the military in the way.“

She clicked through the open tabs on her laptop. “Most messageboards that talk about you and your exposé are pro-Superman, and they call you a Luthor Loyalist.” 

“ _It’s not just about Lex!_ ” Lois exclaimed, nearly shouting. One of her small hands slammed down on a hard surface—if she was home, it was probably the coffee table; Kara knew she preferred to work and complain about work on the couch from Clark. “ _The Army was in on this, Kara. They had to have hired Lex to build them weapons to take Superman down. Maybe that attack was him going rogue or something—I doubt the military wants a brutal attack on America’s favorite guy done so publicly—but they were using Lex and now that he’s screwed up they’ve hung him out to dry. They’re **guilty** , just like he is, Kara.” _

A part of Kara didn’t blame them—Lex Luthor, General Lane, the host of faceless and nameless people that despised her kind—for being so afraid and so desperate to arm themselves. Mankind was isolated in the unique way that all planets in their infancy were. For Kara, the term _cosmopolitan_ was used broadly in its truest form; she was at ease in the cosmos, among those who had learned the same tolerance and receptivity as herself. Krypton had become the victim of a paranoid, fanatically elitist Council and her people had lost their way, but no race was denied entry into her atmosphere. Kryptonians were encouraged to embrace all cultures that upheld the common values of the universe—integrity, imagination, unity and free aid most of all. 

Earth was different for Kara, though. She was a cosmopolitan everywhere but here, on this slow-moving planet with a population that had barely extended their fingers towards the stars. 

“They can’t get away with this.” 

The alerts Kara had set on Lex Luthor and his family’s names triggered a set of notifications on her laptop. 

**‘TRIAL DATE SET FOR LEX LUTHOR’**

**’SELF-DEFENSE OR SERIAL LIAR? LEX LUTHOR’S MOTIVES AND INCOMING TRIAL EXPLAINED’**

**’LUTHOR FAMILY LAWYERS JUMP SHIP AND SPEAK OUT’**

**’LENA LUTHOR BREAKS HER SILENCE TO OFFER METROPOLIS AID’**

**’LENA LUTHOR: THE UNWELCOME JANITOR OF METROPOLIS’**

To Kara, it felt like they had already.

_-_

“Wait a minute, _Lena Luthor_ —”

”Yes,” Kara interjected, repeating herself for the third time. “She pulled the kryptonite from your chest so that I could take you to Eliza.” 

Clark shook his head. “You must be mistaken—”

”My memory is perfect, Kal-El. She told me her name was Lena that day, and after less than a minute on the internet I saw her photograph.” Kara gently cleared her throat. “I could never forget her face.”

Soaked to the bone and covered in Kal’s blood, Lena had looked lonely and beaten down. There had been terror in her piercing green eyes, but Kara had seen Lena’s determination when she had tried to stop her from helping Kal.

Her determination to do _good_. 

“She’s his _sister_ , Kara—”

”And you are my cousin, Kal-El, yet I am not you and you are not I. We are two people, equal but not the same. We share morals, yes, but our personalities are not the same and we each want different things in life. It is the same with Lena and Lex.” Kara bit her lip and crossed her arms. After so long on Earth, nearly six years, she didn’t like her formal speech; it made her feel disjointed. She sighed heavily. “She’s not like him, Clark. She ran into that alley deadset on helping you—even when I dropped down from the sky trying to stop her.”

Clark rubbed at his face with both hands.

”That’s what good people do, Clark. It’s what you or I would have done.” Kara sat forward. “She’s not like him, she’s—”

”You knew her for all of five minutes,” Clark snapped. Kara blanched, retreating back into her chair at the dining room table. He had never lost his patience with her like this before. “I’ve known Lex since I was _eighteen_.” 

“You said he was good once, too,” Kara argued, scowling. 

Clark clenched his jaw. His next words were low and forced. “Then he started harassing Clark Kent at the Daily Planet because he managed to get an interview with Superman—had him and his friends and his girlfriend followed everywhere.” Clark leaned forward, elbows heavy on the table. “But even before that, Kara, he was a bad man. He used his ties with the mob to make tenants disappear in some Metropolis apartment complexes so he could buy them for LuthorCorp; he rigged elections for Congress, which is part of why aliens still don’t have rights. Illegal experimentation on humans; funding poachers in Africa to secure elephants for cancer research—he’s _dirty,_ and for all the good Lena did in one instance, I bet she’s dirty too.”

”Lena isn’t Lex.” 

“You’re missing the point.” 

“And which point is that?” Kara’s nostrils flared. She stood up suddenly, knocking her chair back with unintended force. “That all people of a specific bloodline are doomed to be terrible and do terrible things? That evil is inherited?” 

Clark stood, and the table veered to the side and crashed when his thighs collided into it. “He tapped my phone, hacked my email and had my _family_ followed! That means he put _your_  identity and safety at risk, Kara, as well as ma’s and Lois’ and Jimmy’s. If he had figured out that Clark Kent didn’t  _know_ Superman, but that he _was_ Superman, everyone I love would have been in incredible danger—and he wouldn’t have given a damn. _That’s_ evil, and that’s what Lena’s grown up around.”

Kara’s lips parted faintly in surprise. “Is that why you just... stopped talking to me?” 

From the time Kara was sixteen until she’d taken Clark away from Metropolis, she’d only interacted with him through sparse texts and the rare phonecall. 

It had hurt, and it still did, but Kara had learned to live without him—though that didn’t mean she had wanted to. 

“Kara—”

”Wait, no.” Kara held up a hand and swallowed past the lump in her throat. This wasn’t about them—and in any case, it was in the past. Lex would go to jail, and they could be family again once they got past this issue. “This isn’t about you and me. This is about Lena—she’s _not_ evil.”

Kara couldn’t understand Clark’s perspective. Lena wasn’t Lex, and the crimes of one sibling didn’t automatically qualify the other for similar actions in the future. It was _so_ simple, and that made it all the more frustrating when he practically refused to see her side as valid.

Clark pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not going to enjoy the day when you’re proven wrong, Kara.” 

“That’s okay, Kal-El.” Effortlessly, Kara righted Eliza’s dining room table and the chair she’d knocked over. She pushed it in and turned to leave through the back door. The sun would set in a little while, and she wanted to fly. “I’m going to enjoy the day I’m proven _right_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting will unfortunately continue to be a a tad erratic, though there won’t be such a large gap like there was this time.


End file.
